


Love & Death

by mrs_squirrel_chester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean Winchester / Original Female Character - Freeform, F/M, Family, Female Friendship, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Male-Female Friendship, Original Character Death(s), Resurrection, Sam Winchester / Sarah Blake - Freeform, Torture, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-02
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 00:18:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 29
Words: 68,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3467399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_squirrel_chester/pseuds/mrs_squirrel_chester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr. Serenity Hatfield has hunting in her blood and has been told that soul mates exist. She doesn't believe it until a werewolf case falls into her lap and she meets Dean Winchester. Are they soul mates? Will they live happily ever after? OFC/Dean. Rated T for mild sexual encounter(s), language and some violence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love & Death

All my life I was told that there is that one person for everyone; a soul mate. That God had created one soul and divided it into two different forms, scattering them across the universe. They might find each other, they might not, but if they do, watch out. It is a love that is unstoppable and it knows no bounds. It is all consuming and will either create life or destroy it.

I heard it every day of my life. _There's someone out there for you and you only, child. It will happen one day. You won't expect it. It's like they'll fall out of the sky and into your lap, and you'll be complete. Everything will make sense and you'll be happy._

Rubbish. I said I was told those things, I never said I believed them.

How could someone make me feel whole? I was my own person. Medically speaking nothing was missing. I had a heart, two lungs, a liver, kidney, two legs, arms, ears and eyes... everything I was supposed to have, I did. I was complete just the way I was. How could another person make me more? How was it possible? It's not, it's that simple. You are who you are and no one can change that, no one can make you more.

That's what I thought anyway. I blame it on my age. I was so young and naive;., stupid really. The older I got, the more I felt incomplete. You would think that with how I grew up, I would be more open minded; willing to accept the things I was told. Hell, I believed... no I knew there was something under my bed before I was 2. My dad killed it on my 3rd birthday after it tried eating my toes.

 _Scrumptious_ , it whispered, _these are a delicacy. So tiny, so juicy._

We moved the next day.

But that's not what this story is about, not completely that is. At its core, this is a story about love. Love, and how it can change someone so completely that they would do anything for the other person, including self-sacrifice.

This is my story.

My name is Serenity Hatfield and this is how I died.

* * *

 

The click of the recorder is loud in the almost empty room. Fluorescent lights illuminate the old emergency room with its white tile floor and matching matte paint that covers the walls. A thought of adding some color to the room flits through my brain just as I cover my face with the thin plastic shield that is required. I scan the table to my right, mentally checking off all the tools I would need to cut this man open. His insides would give me clues as to how he lived his life and hopefully into how he died so suddenly. There is a massive hole in his chest where his heart should have been, I silently pray his death had been speedy.

"September 5, 2012, 8:35 PM. Dr. Hatfield leading the autopsy on Mr. Stan Michaelson, aged 35. Upon initial investigation, Mr. Michaelson appears to be in good shape. Police report indicates he was out for a run at TOD, between the hours of 6:15 PM and 7:00 PM. There is a hole about 6 inches in diameter above where the heart is located."

I reach out to touch the lining of the torn flesh. "Flesh is ragged, almost as if something chewed its way in."

Exploring further, my fingertips feeling the torn valves but no heart. "It appears that the heart is missing upon initial inspection."

Reaching over, I grab a scalpel and start a routine autopsy; taking organs out and weighing them, making verbal notes into the recorder that is under my mask, samples are removed from the organs and labeled for the lab. The further I get into the autopsy, the more something chews at the back of my mind. After all organs are removed, leaving the corpse just about emptied of all that composes a human body, I stand there and stare at him.

I remove my bloody gloves and reach up to turn off my recorder. "Autopsy to be concluded upon findings from organ samples. Dr. Hatfield signing off at 10:30 PM." I pull off my face shield, hearing it slap against the metal table to my left.

He was a handsome man with sandy blonde hair, gray touching his side burns, smile lines visible at the corners of his eyes with small circular lines around his mouth; he laughed a lot. "I'm sorry your time on this earth wasn't as long as it should have been Mr. Michaelson. I'll try to figure out what did this to you." Yes, I talk to my ‘patients’. I prefer the ones that don't talk back.

I pull a sheet up and over the body of what used to be Stan, a husband to Marcia for the past 15 years and a father to their 2 children; Molly aged 7 and Charlie aged 4. My heart goes out to them. I know what it was like to lose a parent so young.

I grab the police report and head back to my office, turning off the lights behind me. I pull a bottle of whiskey and a tumbler glass as I sit down to review the police report, along with a print out of my verbal findings during the autopsy. God bless technology, no need to transcribe anything anymore.

The amber liquid goes down almost too smooth and I find myself pouring another glass as a thought hits me. I am on my feet before I can process what I am doing. Three files are pulled out of my standing file cabinet and spread out on the desk. I flip through the photos and autopsy findings before I lean back in my chair, resting my head against the cool leather. All three vics had their hearts ripped out. No other physical damage. All at night and all during the full moon.

My hands are diving through my purse and locating my cell phone before I have another thought. I glance at the clock as the call connects and the line starts ringing. It shouldn't be too late for this, he's never been much of a sleeper.

A deep muffled voice picks up after the fifth ring, "You better have a damn good reason for calling me so late."

I catch my lips as they pull into a small smile, "Calm your tits old man, it's Ren."

There's a solid five seconds before the voice on the other end speaks again, sleep coating his words. "Girl, not that I'm not glad to hear from you, but do you know what time it is?"

"I'm sorry Bobby, but I just finished an autopsy and it seems like something right up our... um your alley. I think we got a werewolf here in Minnesota." I hold my breath as I let him absorb the news.

"Crap, I thought we had gotten the last of them earlier this year. Alright, the boys and I will be up there in about 8 hours."

I hang up the phone after giving him my work address and a few other small details.

Wait? The boys? When did Uncle Bobby have kids?


	2. Memories

I hear before I see the cars head up the drive way and finish tying my waist length hair into a braid as I check the clock: 7 hours. They must have broken all sorts of laws to get here with one hour to spare. I pull on a pair of leather hiking boots and a dark grey cardigan before stepping onto the white wrap around porch. The house belonged to my great grandparents, I inherited it after my parents died 15 years ago. The three story Victorian style home was a mile off the main road and boasted 350 acres to her title.

I raise a hand to shield my bright, blue eyes from the harsh early morning sun and I can't help but be more than a little excited. It's been just over ten years since I've seen the man I call my Uncle. He and my dad went on more than their fair share of hunting trips. I can't stop the swelling of my heart as memories flash of the last time I saw my father alive.

A beat up late 60's model Chevelle SS that used to be blue, and a late 60's black Chevy Impala coast to a stop in front of the house. Before I can stop myself, I leap down the stairs and throw myself into Bobby's arms, wishing I hadn't stopped calling him back a decade ago.

He grunts in surprise, but his strong arms are around my waist, "Good to see you too girl. You're gonna kill me if you don't loosen up your grip!"

"Ah Bobby it's good to see you! I missed you. Look, I know it's been a long time. I'm sorry about not calling you back or anything. I just..." I let my voice trail off as images of the night we got set up by a vampire informant. I feel his older eyes look into mine.

"You got nothin' to apologize for. You wanted out. I sure as hell don't blame you. I'm just glad you found something to fall back on." He pushes a lock of hair out of my face as I catch movement from the other car. Two tall forms stand up, both emitting loud noises as they stretch their car weary limbs.

"7 hours man. We could have stopped a hundred times just so we could stretch or EAT!" This from the slightly shorter and lighter haired man.

"Don't complain to me Dean. Bobby is the one that said we needed to get here so fast." The taller and darker featured one waves his hand over to us as he walks around the back of the car.

I haven't seen their faces completely, but there's something about the first ones voice that seems so familiar it sends a chill up my spine. I pull the sweater tight around my chest as the ‘boys’ walk toward us.

"Serenity, this is Dean and Sam Winchester. Dean and Sam, this is Serenity Hatfield. Her Dad and I go... went way back."

I do a double take from Sam to Dean. "Wait a minute? Dean and Sam... Winchester? You're John and Mary's boys?" I can't hide the surprise that takes over my voice.

Sam is the first one to reach out and give my hand a shake. "Last time I checked. It's nice to meet you." His grip is firm, and yet, oddly comforting. I get the feeling that he is incredibly sympathetic and has a large amount of empathy. Just don't cross him. He'll kill you before you could even spit. His hazel eyes look like so sad, like they've seen a million deaths and not nearly enough happiness.

Dean reaches out for my hand next and the moment his skin touches mine, a jolt of electricity passes through us, and I feel like my hand has just been stabbed. I jerk my hand away from his. "Sorry about that. Must have been that long drive." Deans voice is deeper than deep. He sounds like he drove all night, which knowing Bobby, they probably did. His eyes are damn near sparkling in the sunlight, shimmering like blades of grass after a fresh rain.

I swallow a few times just to get my voice to work, and shake my hand at my side since my fingers are still tingling. "It's alright. It's pretty dry up here so I know that doesn't help much. Please, come in." The guys grab their bags and I hold the door open as they walk in. I can't stop watching Dean. Not just because I find him attractive, but there's something I can't put my finger on. Something deep inside me feels drawn to him, like I want to be near him, and touch him, and never let him out of my sight.

I let the guys get settled as I whip up some breakfast, Dean had said something about food. The sounds of their heavy steps and deep voices fade away as my mind starts to wander. Where did I know him from? Why does he seem so familiar? Why can't I stop thinking about him? Questions give way to memories of a dream.

_The room is cold and damp. Water drips in the background, and there are sounds of small furry creatures roaming the sidelines. I am strapped to a table, naked to the elements save for 7 wide leather straps. One is a chin piece that covers my mouth to muffle my screams, one across my breasts and groin, and one more for each wrist and ankle. My body isn't cold because of the temperature, it's due to blood loss. There are more than a dozen precise incisions across my soft stomach and it's just the beginning. He said he knew how to make it last for weeks, and that I would beg for him to kill me. I have been in his possession for just 5 days.  
_

_His fingers pull the soft, leather muzzle away from my lips after he makes me promise I won't scream. I nod against his clammy skin. "I don't know where it is, I swear. Please... please stop. You don't have to do this. I'll help you find it. I will. Just please let me go." Hot tears spill down the sides of my face as I try to choke back a sob._

_"You think this is just about that stupid trinket?" He barks out a laugh as he tosses his head back. "You silly, stupid little girl. I could care less about that. I just want THEM." I struggle against his touch as he lowers his face to mine, lips and breath hot against my ear. "You're just the bait darling, I want the Winchesters, and you're going to bring them to me."_

"Darling, everything ok?" Bobby's voice pulls me from my trance and I see him take the omelet pan from the stove top.

I grab for a glass of water, noticing that I'm sweating, "Y-yeah I just... I was up all night poring over the files." Which is true. I had compiled every bit of information I could get so there would be minimal research needed. "You guys eat, I'll get the files." I just about run out of the room and the back door, the cool air a welcome release. "What the hell was that?"

That nightmare hadn't entered my mind in years. The first time I remember having it was after my parents had died. I stand on the porch, the breeze from the west feels good against my face, and it helps me calm down, quieting the questions screaming in my mind. I make my way back into the house and to my study where I had placed the files the night before. As I walk towards the sitting room, I can't help but overhear the guys.

"Don't get me wrong Bobby, you know I'm all for ganking a werewolf, but who is she? I never heard you talk about her before. She calls out of nowhere and you jump, dragging us along for the ride. Since when can't you handle a simple werewolf?" Dean is leaning against the fireplace, arms crossed against his chest. I can't help but notice just how tired he looks.

Sam is sitting on the three cushion couch across from Bobby, long hair shading his face in the sunlight. "Dean, since when do you complain if you get to go and kill something? Last I checked, you wanted to get back to the easy kills. No angels telling us what to or not to do."

Bobby stands behind the couch across from Sam, hands stretching out on the fabric. "Just like I call you my boys, she's my girl. Her Daddy and I would hunt together. Her Mom would come and stay with Karen while we were away; if she didn't go with us. That gal had spunk, I'll give her that. Alec was one of the best hunters I'd seen, next to you and your Dad of course. Martha got pregnant and Alec swore he was done, said he wanted to be a family man, and raise his baby right. And he _was_ done, for the better part of Ren's life. She was 18 and had just graduated high school when a pack of werewolves made their way through town. Alec and I went out, told the girls to stay at home, to lock themselves in the panic room. Martha didn't listen. She locked Ren in and followed us. We weren’t prepared for the numbers this pack had. Ten hunters went in and only five came out. We didn't even kill half the pack." His voice trails off and I can tell he's getting choked up.

It was the worst night of my life. "Bobby was the one to unlock the panic room door, covered head to toe in blood; both human and lycan. We didn't even have any bodies to bury, the wolves devoured them whole. I went home with Bobby that night and I didn't leave until 5 years later. I packed everything I had and moved up here." Walking into the room, I place the files on the table between the couches. "This is all the information I have. I couldn't find a connection between the 4 victims, at least not yet. I'm sure there are more but I didn't take the time to look after calling you."

Dean pushes away from the fireplace to sit next to Sam as they start looking through the files. Bobby makes his way over, giving my hand a squeeze as he sits down. The room is quiet as papers rustle and pen is pushed against paper with thoughts and notes.

Sam is the first to speak, "I'm gonna agree with Serenity, everything points to a werewolf. You put together a good file."

"It still doesn't answer _who_ she is." Dean is leaning back against the couch, doubt taken hold of his features and, truth be told, I'm starting to get a little pissed.

Bobby gives me a nod as I stand up, walking over to my bookshelf lined with every book you've ever seen, and some you haven't. I grab a large, old, blood red leather bound album. The initials **_VH &H_** are in black velvet. It thumps against the table, pushing some files onto the floor as I open it. Sam and Dean, both intrigued, sit up straight.

I point to the appropriate pictures, documents, and people as I speak. "These are my great-great grandparents on their wedding day, Jonathan and Mina Harker. Mina’s best friend Lucy was seduced and killed shortly after by a vampire. At her funeral, they meet up with a man who introduces himself as Abraham Van Helsing. But they quickly notice that Van Helsing isn’t the only new arrival into town. Another man makes his presence known, along with an obsession with Mina. After his identity is revealed, Dracula flees, but he is not alone. After the long journey and death of Dracula, Jonathan and Mina have a son, Quincey. With the help of Van Helsing, they verse themselves in all things supernatural and become quite the hunting couple. The four of them immigrate to the United States in the early 1900's where this land was purchased and this house was built. It then became a hunter's hostel of sorts. My mother, at 16, met and fell in love with Alec. I was born ten years later, and after my parents died, I inherited the house and the life. Now I just have the house with remnants of the life hanging around."

Sam and Dean stare at me from the minute I say the name Harker. " _You_? You're a descendant of the Harkers? I thought it was all just a myth." Dean manages to speak after a couple moments of silence.

I nod in response, watching as Sam moves off the couch and his long legs take him for a walk around the room where he takes a closer look at the pictures hanging on the walls and on the mantle. The books are next and he seems shocked or in awe. I can't figure out which.

My eyes are drawn back to Dean. He remains on the couch, forearms against his legs as he reaches out to look at heavy book. His eyes flick from the wedding picture to me, to the picture and back to me. I find it very difficult to sit still when he looks at me like that, crystal eyes staring hard into mine. "You look just like her." I feel myself drawn to him even more the longer he stares at me.

Sam has made it full circle and is flipping through the book. "So what is it about this house? I don't remember ever hearing about any activity around here. You're out in the middle of nowhere with the closest house and town more than several miles off. Why has nothing happened here?"

Bobby and I exchange a smirk as he turns to the last few pages of the book. I point to the original drawing Jonathan and Abraham came up with. "You feel that bump when you pulled off the main road? Pure iron rail road, a mile in perimeter around the house. Hundred feet out from the porch, Johnathan and Abe laid iron pipes filled with rock salt. In the foundation of the house is a devil's trap. There are hex bags in each corner of the house, on every floor. Each level also has a devil's trap carved into the woodwork. Behind the walls, there are sigils warding off demons and angels. There's also an iron panic room, just like Bobby's. This is like Fort Knox. If it's supernatural, it's not getting in here. If it does happen to get in, it's not getting out unless it's dead."

Dean and Sam exchange a look of shock mixed with approval. A smile pulls at the corners of Dean's full lips. "I'm impressed. I thought you'd be the typical damsel in distress, but you had to go and prove me wrong. I think I'm in love." He gives a joking wink as he reaches for the autopsy I had conducted last night.

There's a soft buzzing in my pocket as my work cell phone rings. "Dr. Hatfield. Oh, hi Mark. We got ourselves another one huh? Alright, give me 20 minutes. Yeah, bye." The guys look up at me with questions in the eyes. "I don't suppose you guys want to see a dead body?"


	3. Nighttime Ride

Five hours later and the four of us are back at my house. The guys are in the sitting room going over all the information we could find at my office and whatever else they can find on the internet. It turns out there were quite a few more bodies than I knew about. We found a total of fifteen more victims over the past year, averaging one to two per month. The body I got called in for was just like the others; heart dug out through the chest. The only difference being the gender; Melissa Anderson was lying in the coroner's cooling unit.

I can feel someone in the room with me while I cook dinner; spaghetti, cheesy garlic bread, and a side salad made with kale and arugula. A brief glance over my shoulder only confirms my suspicions. Dean is leaning against the door frame, hands in the pockets of his well-worn and faded jeans. The briefest of smiles plays with his full lips as my eyes meet his and I can feel something tug in the lowest part of my stomach.

I dip my head in acknowledgement before I turn my attention back to the stove top. "What can I do for you Dean?" My brain is bombarded with images of things I could do for Dean, and none of them are very PG.

"Nothing, I just wanted to say sorry for how I barked at you earlier. Bobby let us stop only a couple times on the way up and that was only when we needed gas or were about to pee our pants. I didn't mean to take that out on you. I hope you know that." His voice is softer than it was this morning, full of apology.

I don't know why but I wasn't really expecting this from him. I feel my shoulders pop up. "It's no biggie, I get it. Dinner will be ready in a few minutes. You can tell Sam and Bobby if you want." I hear him push away from the frame and walk out of the room before I blow the air out of my lungs, hanging my head as I try to calm my heart. It feels like I had just run a mile full blast. Something isn't right.  I have never had this sort of reaction before.

As I finish putting the food into serving dishes, I find myself wondering what it would be like to kiss him. He has the perfect lips for it, they're so full and they look so inviting. "Stop it Ren." I give my head a firm shake and walk over to the fridge to pop open a beer bottle, almost draining it when I hear the familiar foot steps behind me.

"Bobby said I should help set the table." He sounds almost disappointed, like he can't be bothered to help with something like this. I find myself suddenly irritated with him. Which is weird, considering a few moments ago I had the urge to shove him against the wall and devour his mouth with mine.

"I got it Dean, really." We both end up reaching for the cabinet where the plates are kept and I feel another jolt of electricity spark up my arm as our hands touch. I hiss in response but don't pull my hand away this time. I notice his eyes first. Where moments ago they were mid-summer grass green they were now a darker more emerald shade. His lips part slightly and it feels as if all the air is being sucked out of the room.

My eyelids flutter closed and it takes all I have to shake my head and back away, "Y-you can get the plates, I'll get the silverware." I don't dare open my eyes again until I am facing the drawers. Sam and Bobby come in just as we lay down the last place setting. I grab beers for everyone and sit as far away from Dean as I possibly can.

Dinner is a blur as I listen to the many tales that the guys share. While they're great stories and I'm enjoying the company, I can't seem to sit still. I have the urge to get out of the house. There's too much testosterone, there's too much talk, there's too much… Dean. I need to get out where I don't have four walls around me and I'm not surrounded by people.

I excuse myself, grabbing the shoulder holster that is weighed down by my 9mm Smith & Wesson currently loaded with silver nitrate bullets, and a heavy sweater jacket. I hear footsteps behind me and I know that it's Bobby, but I just can't talk to anyone right now so I run out the front door, around the house and to the horse stables several yards from the house. I quickly get my black quarter horse saddled up and tear off as if something is chasing me. I don't slow down until I can no longer see the lights of the house. Beauty starts to wander as I let loose on the reins, her breathing labored like mine as she goes in search of water from the nearby creek.

My eyes wander around the property. Thick trees can't hide the moon tonight. I's waning, but she's still lighting up the night sky with her fullness. Something my mother told me springs into my thoughts. _  
_

_"The first touch will be like you've been struck by lightning. You'll feel drawn to him like the flowers to the sun. You'll want nothing else but to be held by him, kissed by him, loved by him."_

No, this can't be. All the crap I heard about having a soul mate? I'm in my early 30's for crying out loud. If it were to happen it should have been by now!

A thud to my right halts any movement from me or my mare. I know there are sounds in trees all the time, but this one is different; it was low and heavy. I close my eyes and slow my breathing, focusing on the sounds around me. Beauty is spooked but holding steady. The water of the creek is lapping against rocks in its path. There's a family of owls in the east, and just ahead of me is something I've never heard before; a slow and heavy breathing with a growling undertone.

My eyes flick open and I'm greeted with pair of large, bright copper eyes not fifty feet in front of me. I pull out my pistol and start firing, hitting the trees more than anything since Beauty had started sidestepping before taking off at full speed towards the house.

Fear takes a firm grip. It's in every part of me as I race towards the house, the creature gaining on us with every stride. The lights of the house become larger and are a welcome beacon of survival. I start screaming. Bobby's name is first, followed by Dean and then Sam. I see them run out to the porch, guns drawn as primal screams continue to tear out of my throat.

I just about fall off Beauty before she takes off around the house and is running full steam down the driveway. I can hear the other horses make a ruckus as I run for the steps. Bobby reaches out to me, his voice is barely audible as I'm driven to the ground by something hard.

Standing tall above me is a wolf larger than I had ever seen, its eyes are staring down into mine, teeth bared, and shining in the moonlight. Why wasn't it attacking me? Why did it seem so familiar? Where were Bobby, Dean, and Sam? My heart started to pound against my chest, fast enough it felt like one constant beat.

I take a risk and try to slide back towards the house. "Guys?" My voice comes out in a whisper that's full of surprise as the wolf lets me back away from it. I feel Bobby's hand on my shoulder, and in that split second, the wolf lashes out and rips at Bobby's stomach. A scream pours from my mouth as his mouth falls open in a large O. I can see the whites around his irises.

As if in slow motion, I watch him fall to his knees, the gun hits the ground with a silent thud, and I reach out to press both his, along with my, hands against the large tears in his soft skin. Gunfire erupts behind him as Dean and Sam open fire upon the lycan. There's howling behind me as I hear the impact of the silver bullets but my eyes never leave the older man now lying on the ground.

Blood pours out from under our hands. "Bobby, no… you can't… DEAN! SAM! HELP ME! Get him into the basement NOW!" I rip off my sweater and place it under Bobby's hands. I have to save him. I WILL save this man if it's the last thing I do.


	4. Out of the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV changes from Serenity to Dean

Sam and I struggle down the basement stairs with the extra weight of Bobby distributed between us. Serenity wastes no time in getting the make shift emergency room in working order before kicking us out.

"You'd just be in the way, I can do this myself!"

Sam, seeing her point, places his hand on my shoulder and pulls me out of the room. We decide to do a quick check of the property, and after finding only the pool of blood from Bobby, we head back to the house and into the kitchen; washing the blood from our hands in the sink.

Finishing first, I grab two beers from the fridge, handing one to Sam before draining mine in one shot. I lean against the counter and shakes my head, feeling the disbelief and shock show on my brow. "What was that Sam? That wasn't your average werewolf, that thing was huge!" I run a hand over my face and through my hair, giving the back of my neck a squeeze before it falls down to my side.

Sam sits down at the table across from me and plays with the bottle label. "Ya got me, I'm just as surprised as you. I mean, I thought we got the last of them in March when we were in Colorado. It could be something from across the ocean, an older more primal breed?"

Before sitting down at the table, I grab another round of beers. "You know what's really bothering me? It didn't attack her. It could have torn her limb from limb right in front of us but it didn't do anything. Why? I have never seen one hesitate like that. It looked at her like it knew her. This whole thing is rubbing me the wrong way."

Sam tilts his head to the side. "You ok man?"

"No I'm not ok. Bobby was practically disemboweled right in front of us and now some girl we don't even know is patching him up."

"Dean, Bobby knows and trusts her, he said so himself this morning. We've trusted a lot of other folk on less than Bobby's word."

I nod as Sam talks. "It's not just that. I don't know, I can't explain it. Ever since we pulled up the driveway I've had this weird feeling."

"Weird feeling how?"

"I don't know, Sam. I wish to hell I did. I almost kissed her tonight." The confession comes out soft.

"Not that I'm surprised, but what?"

"Right before dinner. We both reached for the plates and it was like a small lightning strike all through my body and I just… I don't know man, I went for it. She turned away so nothing happened. It's weird though, I feel like I want to be near her all the time. I'm not kidding Sam and I can't explain it any better than that. I feel like I need to be here, with her. You don't think she's a witch do you?"

Sam lets a laugh escape at that. "No Dean, I don't think she's a witch. Maybe it's just you're attracted to the legend behind her. She's a Harker for Christ sake. There's a lot that comes with that name. We should know that better than anybody right now."

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Leaning back in the chair, I stretch my legs and look at the clock; 1:35 AM. "You think we should go down there? Maybe something's happened and-" noticing movement in the door frame, I almost drop the bottle in my hands, "Serenity."

* * *

 

I walk to the sink and start to wash my hands. The water swirling around the drain is dark red before slowly giving way to light pink. I can feel two impatient sets of eyes on my back as I clean myself up, doing the best I can until I get upstairs. Upstairs is where I can take a shower and cry, I won't cry until I get up there. I hide my shaking hands in a towel and turn to face the two very tall men in my kitchen. "B-bobby's ok. I found all the lacerations and got them stitched up, no major organs were damaged which is a shock even to me. He lost a lot of blood, but I have another pint of O hanging right now. He um… he flat lined a couple times towards the end, but I was able to resuscitate him. We need to watch him tonight though. He's still in critical condition and if he makes it through the next 12 hours, he should be up and moving around inside 2 weeks." I feel my eyes start to well up with tears, if one falls, I'm done for. I shake my head a bit and try to avoid eye contact the best I can.

Dean is standing too close to me, I can smell him mixed with the iron of Bobby's blood, gunpowder, and the dirt that is caked all over my back. He takes a step closer to me. For what? Whatever it is, I can't be near him. If what I felt earlier was real, my emotions will only heighten those feelings. I wrap my fingers tighter in the towel when the urge to grab him by his shoulders and feel every inch of him takes hold.

I notice that their shirts are caked in blood. "Why don't you guys take a shower? There's towels in the bathroom down the hall, second door on the left. I need to clean up and I can take first watch. Sam, why don't you come and get me at 6?" He nods in response before I make myself walk, not run out of the room and up the stairs.

I take a quick hot shower, making sure I get my skin and hair free of dirt and blood. I do not miss the days in my past where this happened on an almost daily occurrence. Too many times had I been the bait, and almost gotten killed in the process, or been too close to the kill. I was done with those days. How is that here I was, knee deep in it again with my family dying in my basement?

I wrap my hair in a loose bun at the base of my skull, pull on a black bra and matching underpants, black yoga pants and a black Led Zepplin concert t-shirt from 1976. My feet are bare as I pad downstairs. Dean and Sam are talking in hushed tones as they pore themselves over the files. Dean looks up just in time, catching my gaze as I head for the basement door. I almost trip when his eyes lock with mine, they're playful but serious at the same time. His lips pull up in an overwhelmingly sexy way and I feel a familiar tug in my lower stomach. Holy shit, what is wrong with me?

I just about throw myself through the open door, slamming it shut behind me. My breathing is ragged and sharp. The steady beep coming from Bobby's machine is oddly calming and I feel myself drawn down the stairs. He looks so small and tired lying in the hospital bed, wires coming out of the top of a hospital gown, a bag of blood and saline solution attached to the back or his right hand. I risk a glance at the stairs and see the door is still shut before climbing into bed next to Bobby.

My head rests against his heart, the _thump thump_ of his heart is comforting as I feel my cheek and his shirt get wet from a surprise onslaught of tears. "Oh Bobby, I'm sorry. Why didn't you just stay on the porch? Why didn't you shoot it?! Please don't leave me all alone, I won't make it if you leave me. Please..." The warmth of Bobby, the sound of his heart and a dash of my exhaustion pull me into a sleep I wasn't expecting.

_The room is cold and damp. Water drips in the background, and there are sounds of small furry creatures roaming the sidelines. I am strapped to a table, naked to the elements save for 7 wide leather straps. One is a chin piece that covers my mouth to muffle my screams, one across my breasts and groin, and one more for each wrist and ankle. My body isn't cold because of the temperature, it's due to blood loss. There are more than a dozen precise incisions across my soft stomach and it's just the beginning. He said he knew how to make it last for weeks, and that I would beg for him to kill me. I have been in his possession for just 5 days._

_His fingers pull the soft, leather muzzle away from my lips after he makes me promise I won't scream. I nod against his clammy skin. "I don't know where it is, I swear. Please... please stop, you don't have to do this. I'll help you find it. I will. Just please let me go." Hot tears spill down the sides of my face as I try to choke back a sob._

_"You think this is just about that stupid trinket?" He barks out a laugh as he tosses his head back. "You silly, stupid little girl. I could care less about that. I just want THEM." I struggle against his touch as he lowers his face to mine, his lips and breath hot against my ear. "You're just the bait darling. I want the Winchesters and you're going to bring them to me."_

_"You'll be waiting a long time, they're not coming. They don't deal with scum like you." I spit against his cheek and immediately recoil, expecting to feel the backside of his hand against my face. Instead, he caresses my jaw line with his fingertips, working his way to my chin where the mood in his hand changes. His fingers are strong, much stronger than my neck and he forces me to look at him._

_His eyes are now black. Black as the darkest night, and then some. His voice is strained as anger consumes him. "You think you're so smart don't you? You think you know everything. One thing you don't know about the Winchesters is that they would throw themselves willingly into the pit if it meant saving one innocent life. You are all just dumb, useless meat suits waiting for something up on high to come and take you home. Well you know what? You don't get that ending. You are all coming to Hell with ME!"_

_His thick fingers move the leather strap over my mouth again just as I let out a scream of protest. I start shaking, anger and fear taking hold._

_At the end of the table, there is a set of large copper eyes staring at me, drool dripping out of its mouth and onto my feet._


	5. An Unexpected Revelation

I sit straight up in the hospital bed, sweat soaked and crying, a large hand on my shoulder. Panic replaces the fear as I turn to make sure I didn't pull any of Bobby's sensors off or pinch off any IV's.

The hand on my shoulder squeezes softly. "Ren, he's ok. You were the one that was giving me a scare upstairs."

I turn towards the source of the voice and meet eyes of hazel that are full of concern; Sam.

He moves away from the bed so I can stand, my legs are shaky but they don't give way. I reach up to wipe away the layer of sweat from my forehead as I try to speak; my mouth and throat are dry. Sam nods his head towards the steps and we make our way to the kitchen. I grab a bottle of water and drain it before he can even sit down at the table, his large eyes watch me as if I'm a scared animal and I might bolt; which I just might.

According to the clock on the wall, I had been downstairs for 4 hours; it sure felt later than 5:45 AM.

"Sam, you ever have dreams that haven't happened yet? I don't mean like déjà vu type dreams where they only happen once and you don't remember them until you're in that moment. I mean reoccurring dreams about a particular moment in time where nothing changes, there are no variables, there's just the dream." I bite at my bottom lip, nervous for some stupid reason. I look over Sam's shoulder to see Dean sprawled out on the couch in what I find to be a very uncomfortable position, but he's sound asleep. The moon has shifted to shine her light in the window, her rays shine off the left side of his face and he looks almost angelic with his sandy blonde hair and long eyelashes. I give an inward sigh as I force myself to look back at his younger brother.

His hands are clasped together on the table in front of me, "I haven't had that sort of dream, no. Do you want to talk about it?"

My eyes flick back to Dean as he stirs, mumbling in his sleep. I close my eyes as I pull at the memory of the dreams, "They're sort of about you guys. I'm in a room with concrete walls, it is cold and I can hear water dripping behind me. I'm naked and strapped down to a cross shaped table, the straps are wide and leather. I think some of them have demon binding sigils carved into them. There's a man, well a demon actually and he's cutting into my stomach. I can't scream because there's a strap over my mouth too. When he takes the strap off, I start to tell him 'I don't know where it is but that I'll help you find it.' He just laughs and says that it has nothing to do with some trinket. That what he wants is you and Dean and that he's going to use me to get to you. I tell him that you won't come and he says that you'll come. You'll come because you would do anything to save an innocent. That all we are all useless meat suits and that he's going to drag us to Hell." I wipe away the few stray tears that have fallen with the back of my hand. My eyes search his for any sort of answer.

I watch him as he absorbs everything I just said, every expression I can think of plays across his face. "Did he tell you his name?" He sounds angry.

"These past couple nights I don't remember him speaking his name. But when I first started having the dreams, I swear he said it… um give me a minute. Oh he talked with a lisp."

"Was it Alistair?" Sam goes rigid and practically vibrates he's so angry.

Recognition hits me. "Yeah, it was Alistair. You guys know him?"

A mocking scoff escapes his lips. "You could say that. Dean is going to be so pissed."

I watch in confusion as Sam pushes away from the table and walks to where his brother has been sleeping, he gives his shoulder a shake. They talk quietly for a minute until I hear the name 'Alistair'. Dean sits up faster than I thought he could move and his eyes are on me in a heartbeat. I feel myself shrink back into the chair as he starts to move towards the kitchen, he reminds me of a tiger in the wild stalking its prey and I find I'm short of breath. He pulls on a black t-shirt before he sits down across from me.

"Tell me everything." His voice is thick with sleep but to the point, his eyes stare hard into mine and if Sam wasn't in the room and I didn't have to tell him about being tortured by a demon, I think I just might dive across the table and see if he tastes as good as I hope he does. I tell him everything I just told Sam, suddenly remembering the same set of copper eyes we had seen just a few hours ago. I hold that little bit of information back, if my dreams keep progressing like they have, maybe I'll find out more about this lycan. "Son of a bitch!" He doesn't exactly keep quiet when I'm finished. He pushes away from the table and starts pacing back and forth, his legs are bare only because he's wearing boxers and I find that watching the muscles move in his legs is oddly hypnotizing.

"Look Dean, we don't even know if this is going to come true. We haven't heard a peep from him since I exorcised him what, 4 years ago now? Plus, it's not like we're dealing a psychic, they seem to be just dreams."

"Just dreams, Sam? Did you really just say that? I have had the same "dream" for the past 15 years. No, I'm not a psychic but I have also never had a dream last this long. I was 18 the first time. I didn't know you or your last name. I never knew I could feel that much fear, so don't tell me it's just a DREAM!" My hands slap against the table as I push away. I have never wanted to punch someone in the face as much as I did right then. My eyes dart from Sam to Dean, back to Sam and back to Dean. With a stifled cry, I head out the back door and sit on the steps, my toes digging in the cool dirt.

I can hear Dean raise his voice at Sam and Sam back at Dean in response but I can't hear exactly what's being said, not that I want to know. I know that I want Bobby to get better. I know that I want them gone… that's it. I miss having the house to myself and not having a werewolf kill the people in town. I miss… I miss my parents. I miss everything that goes with losing your parents so young. I don't hear the door close behind me and I don't hear the footsteps on the porch, I don't realize someone is behind me until there's a blanket resting against my shoulders and someone is sitting next to me.

I lift my blood shot eyes and find a pair of crystal green ones staring back at me. He rests his arm on my shoulders and pulls me against him, my cheek against his shoulder almost nestled into his neck. Each breath I pull in is filled with him; the smell of the soap from his shower, the cheap laundry detergent on his clothes and the smell of gunpowder, oil and salt that I'm guessing is a part of how he smells all the time. He doesn't say anything; he just sits with me and holds me while I cry. I barely notice the feel of his lips on my forehead; they're soft and warm, they sort of feel like velvet. The tears that had started to form in my eyes are suddenly gone as I lift my head to meet his gaze. He raises his hand, using his thumb to wipe away the tears on my face. His eyes are full of concern with a splash of playfulness as the air around us starts to get thick, and it's not lightening up.

Just when I think I might explode, his mouth is on mine, claiming it as his.


	6. New Information

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV changes from Serenity to Sam to Dean.

I'm not sure how much time passes as we sit on the porch wrapped in each other’s arms, making out in the moonlight. For all I know, all time has ceased to exist. All that matters is that he is with me. I don't care about anything else. Not the werewolf, not Bobby in critical condition, or a foreboding dream of torture; none of that is important. Having Dean in front of me, beneath me; that is important. His strong hands are everywhere. In my hair, on my back pulling me closer to him, on my hips, and thighs.

My hands seem to mirror his, almost as if they are connected somehow. After what seems like an eternity, and no time passing at the same time, I manage to pull my mouth away from his, and rest my forehead against his. We are both panting as we stare into each other’s eyes. His are a green I've never seen, almost completely lost by lust blown pupils. His already full lips are kiss swollen and red. I rub my thumb across his bottom lip and have the deep urge to bite it, again.

"I hate to break the mood but, um, Bobby's stirring downstairs." Sam's voice seems so far away and muddled.

I lift my head in what feels like slow motion, shaking it slightly since Sam looks blurry and out of focus.

He shrugs impatiently. "You're the DR. Are you coming or not?" Irritation flows off him in waves, pushing all fogginess away.

I disentangle myself from Dean, giving a small chuckle when he groans in protest; strong fingers dig almost painfully into my hips. It's not until I'm halfway down the basement staircase that I hear Dean follow, Sam having already gone down. I feel my lips pull into a smile when Bobby opens his eyes. He opens his mouth to speak but ends up coughing instead. Sam hands him a glass of water, urging him to drink slowly.

Meanwhile, I grab a stethoscope and give him a post-op exam, talking mainly to myself as I go. "His oxygen intake is good, BP and heart rate are slightly elevated but that's too be expected, I'm going to hang another bag of saline and start a morphine drip too…"

Bobby's left hand grabs at mine and his eyes are barely alert, but full of questions. His voice is soft and stern, always authoritative. "A-are you ok?"

My heart melts and I press my lips against his knuckles. "I'm fine, old man. You're the one we need to worry about. Just lie back and rest, ok?" His face relaxes as his eyes roll back, falling asleep before his head hits the pillow.

I feel Sam and Dean behind me as I complete the exam, taking down and hanging the correct IV bags and taking out the blood IV. I reach out and brush some hair off his forehead, he looks so much younger when he's asleep. No demons hunting him down, or the other way around.

I chuckle softly, turning around when I hear Dean grunt in question. "Nothing, just remembering a hunt we went on in Michigan before I left." I motion upstairs and Sam leads the way. Dean takes this moment to grab my butt, chuckling deep within his chest, and it takes all my power not to throw him against the wall and finish what we started outside.

The clock in the kitchen signals that it's 6:30AM. Crap, I have a shift in 30 minutes. I get ready as fast as I can, which consists of washing my face, brushing my teeth, and putting on a pair of socks and shoes.

I leave the boys to take care of Bobby. "Watch his vitals, if his BP goes above 170 / 90 or below 80 / 30 call me. If his heart rate plummets, call me. If he sneezes funny... "

"Call you. We got it, mom." Sam chuckles as he pads off to the kitchen, rummaging around for breakfast.

Dean walks me out to my car and gives me a soft kiss, his hands holding my face, "don't worry about Bobby, we can handle it if anything happens. It won't though, I think that old man is going to see our kids one day." His features are playful, as are his words.

I am not really sure what to say to him though, I mean we were just kissing and now he's mentioned the word kids?

I drive away from the house after another soft kiss.  Part of me feeling the happiest I've ever been and the other part of me is filled with dread. How many more bodies are we going to have? There are a few nights left of this cycle, will it show up at my house again? Will we ever find the connection, if there is one? What about Alistair? When will he come for me? Questions of all kinds assault my brain while I try and get through the next ten hours.

* * *

 

Dean and I go over the files again, trying to find a connection between all 15 bodies, but we came up empty. It could be random, we hadn't thought of that yet since there's rarely any strategical thought behind lycan attacks. Every hour on the hour, we take turns checking on Bobby and his vitals. Dean was right, the old man wasn't going anywhere, today at least.

* * *

 

Sam was tearing through a ham and turkey sandwich when a thought popped into his head. "You know, we could just call Cas. He'd have Bobby healed in no time flat." A smile takes over his lips as if he'd thought of the best thing in the world.

I had just taken a large bite of my own sandwich, having to push it to the side so I could talk. "You get him to answer, you go right ahead. I'm not sure how Serenity will take it. You heard her, she's got sigils protecting this place against angels. Don't you think she should make the call on that one?" I imagine the look and attitude she would have when Sammy brought it up. I’m not entirely sure, but I have a feeling she would be against it, that she wants to be the one to make the old hunter better.

Sam shrugs his large shoulder and starts babbling about Serenity's genealogy as he flips through the massive photo album. I try to pay attention but my thoughts were elsewhere.

I was in mid-daydream about lying in a field of tall green grass and purple flowers surrounding us as we lay on a blue blanket. A basket full of food and beer resting at their feet, and the sun high in the sky above them. We aren't making out or making love, we are just lying there, holding each other’s hands and listening to the sounds of nature around them when a long beep invades my thoughts and grabs my attention.

I meet my brother’s wide eyes. We say Bobby’s name in unison and run down the stairs, expecting the worse. What we don't expect to see is the older man sitting up and pulling the sensors off his chest, followed by the IV's, arthritic fingers clawing at the small tubes.

"Damn it Bobby! You just about gave us a heart attack!" Sam reaches him first, stopping him from pulling the IV's out while I help him sit up.

Bobby hisses in pain and reaches up to press against the hundreds of stitches holding his stomach together. "Where is she? Where is Ren?" There's panic barely covering the exhaustion in Bobby's voice.

"Bobby, relax. She had to go to work. How's the pain huh?" I check the fluid level of the morphine bag, and even though I have no idea what I’m doing, I move the drip adjustment to speed it up slowly. Bobby needs to sleep to heal properly, I do know that much. I’ll will call Serenity after Bobby is asleep and make sure I’m not going to end up killing him.

Sam reaches for Bobby's legs and lifts them back into the bed, covering them with the thick comforter. "She'll be back in a few hours Bobby, you rest."

Bobby's hand shoots out and grabs my calloused and slightly larger one. "It's not a werewolf, full breed anyway... it- it's a hybrid." His eyes start to roll back as sleep takes over.


	7. Dear Diary

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV changes from Dean to Serenity.

"Hybrid? Bobby, what do you mean?"  
  
"H - he - hell hound." Bobby's form goes lax from the morphine and I just stare at him, wishing I hadn't upped his morphine intake so much.

* * *

"What do you mean a hell hound hybrid?" I had left work early after telling my manager I needed a few days off; a family emergency. Dean had called in a panic, saying he had upped Bobby's pain medication, that he was trying to get out of bed, and started talking about a hell hound hybrid. I was home fifteen minutes later.

Dean has his arms crossed against his chest, a hip is resting against the door frame in the front sitting room. He's shaking his head, doubt taking hold of his face. "I've never heard of such a thing. There are hell hounds and there are werewolves, nothing in between."

Sam, in his natural habitat, is sitting at the table with books open surrounding his silver lap top. "Yeah, it's out there, but not completely out of the question." His voice trails off as he clicks on another informative website.

I move to stand in front of Dean, my fingers and other body parts itch to touch him. "Did he say anything else? Anything about where he got the idea from?"

"No, just the word hell hound before the extra morphine kicked in. He's going to be ok, right? I didn't give him too much?"

I reach out and rest my hand on his face, the stubble of his beard tickles the sensitive skin of my palm. "He's going to be ok. You really think an extra dose of morphine is going to kill Bobby, after all he's been through? I'll go and check up on him, you help Sam? Then I'll get some burgers and fries going, that sound good to you?"

His larger hand is against mine, holding it against his face before he turns and presses his lips where his face had just been. "I'm starving." His eyes change in a second from a playful moss green to a predatory emerald green with a splash of honey, and it sends shivers along my spine.

I nod in agreement before I head down to see Bobby, leaving the boys to figure out the older man’s message.

I end up slowing the morphine drip down, Dean turned it up more than I think he meant to. Bobby's heart rate concerns me. Everything else looks good though, even his stitches had stayed intact during his attempt at breaking free. After making sure the dose change was the culprit for the heart rate, and cleaning up the stitches, I trudge upstairs to make the meal as promised; bacon cheeseburgers with waffle fries, and a side salad for Sam and myself. I even go a step further and make chocolate malts for dessert.

* * *

 

Something starts to nag at me while they go back to their research. I wander into Jonathan's old study and find a black diary; grabbed at random. It feels as if it opens on its own towards the last quarter of the pages.

_20 - October - 1912  
Mina has not been sleeping soundly this last month, and I am greatly concerned. She says nightmares are plaguing her and that it feels like something is following her, watching her at night. As a result, we have doubled our surveillance of the property. There has been some disturbance to the perimeter, but nothing too concerning to Abraham or myself. I have called out to some of our neighbors, and they have agreed to alert us if they see or hear anything out of the ordinary. _

_25 - October - 1912  
There have been 3 deaths so far this week, hearts ripped out through the chest. The flesh has been torn, as if someone or something dug its way in. Mina and Quincey both heard howling the night before last, timber wolves I tell them, nothing more. I don't think they believe me. I don't think I believe me. Abraham says there's nothing to worry about, but I'm not sure. Something isn't right. _

_27 - October - 1912  
I saw it tonight. A large wolf type creature with eyes like the sun. It was at the end of the front drive, clawing at the iron perimeter Abraham and I laid. Every time it touched the metal it gave a great howl as if in some kind of pain. It was as large as a bear. No, larger yet, the size of three black bears. It had fur that was matted with blood and earth, a snout that was the size of my head. There was blood dripping off its teeth. I'm sure they'll find a body in the morning. It looked like something Hell itself spat out. A beast of Hell, and it's been killing the people of my town. _

_30 - October - 1912  
The beast is not dead, not that we didn't try. Nothing worked on it. Not bullets of powder nor silver; although the silver did seem to wound it. It kept digging at the iron though, as if it was trying to get in. Does it want to kill us? Is it looking for something on the land? Abraham had received news that other hunters have received visits from these beasts, all during the full moon, and not a night after nor before. Last night was the final stage of the full moon. We will need to wait the full cycle before we see it again. _

Goosebumps break out along my skin and I shudder, a beast of hell larger than three black bears; that sounds like the creature from the other night. I grab the book and run out, yelling for Sam and Dean to follow me down to the basement. I need to wake Bobby up.

I slow the drip even more, push his legs to the side, and wait for him to wake up. Dean has grabbed the diary and starts reading the entries out loud, getting Sam's complete attention. "Wait a minute, something isn't right here. Ah, here it is. 'It was clawing at the iron perimeter.' But this one was outside the house. How long has it been since you've done a perimeter check, Serenity?"

I get a very uneasy feeling and shake my head, "about a month or so. You think someone broke it? Those are one foot thick iron beams. It would take tremendous strength to break them." My attention is grabbed by Bobby when I feel his fingers twitch beneath mine.

"Sam, let's go. We'll start at the driveway and work our way around." He comes over to press a kiss against my temple. "You get what answers you can from Bobby, we'll be back." With that, they are up the stairs three at a time and running out the front door.

I grab the diary with one had before turning back to Bobby, reading more entries until he starts to stir; coming out of his drugged sleep. "Hey old man, take your time." I go into Dr. mode and make sure he's healing ok considering he was mauled by a beast no more than 24 hours ago.  
"I think I know what we're dealing with Ren." His voice is soft and tired.

I help him with some water, making sure he doesn't drink too fast. "Yeah, Dean called me after your attempt to get out of bed. What were you thinking?"

He gives a grimace as he adjusts his hips, grabbing at his stitches. "Sorry about that, something your dad said came to me and I wanted to make sure I was able to tell someone..." his voice trails off as his eyes become sad.

"Stop it Bobby, you're not going anywhere. You got a real Dr. looking after you now, not some hunter with a bottle of whiskey, a needle, and dental floss."

He reaches his hand out to tuck some stray hairs behind my ear, and his eyes change from sadness to pride. He notices the diary in my hands, "What's that?"

"Oh, I found a journal of Jonathan's, takes place during the last half of 1912. It seems they had a run in with a 'beast from Hell'." I read the entries aloud to Bobby and he's nodding his head, agreeing mentally with everything I had read. "You said my dad had found something?"

"It was two weeks before your graduation, I was going to be in town and had called Alec asking if he could help. Just with information, nothing more. There had been attacks during the full moon, so we assumed that it was a werewolf. Hearts were ripped out through the chest, not before or after the moon cycle. But there was this one bit of obscure information your dad had found. Werewolves didn't start as such. Their ancestors were Hell Beasts. Massive beasts that looked like wolves but the size of three large bears, they were responsible for the guarding of the Hell gates. They were also Lucifer's pets, and if you crossed him, you paid for it by a visit from a beast. Sometime down the road hybrids started showing up. The same strengths with a few new weaknesses, and a bit smaller but larger than the werewolves of today; those are a majorly diluted version of their predecessors. It sounds like Jonathan and Abraham were visited by one of Lucifer's pets. Why though? He thought it might be after something. Are there any more entries about it?"

I shake my head as I flip through the pages, "It doesn't seem that there are more in this book, I just grabbed it at random. I didn't even know they were there."

There's loud pounding coming from upstairs, heavy steps from the guys; they must have found something. Dean is the first one down, gun still drawn, and there’s sweat mixed with dirt on his face. "You guys ok? Nothing's been through here?"

Sam comes down the stairs next, long hair matted to his forehead, and some superficial scrapes on his face; I'm assuming from tree branches. My heart is in my throat as I stand and take a look at the blood dripping down from Sam's shoulder. "What happened?"

"The perimeter is breached."


	8. No Closer Than Before

Dean's voice echoes in my head. "The perimeter is breached." My vision goes blurry for a moment until it focuses on the dripping of blood from a deep wound on Sam's shoulder.

The hunter is suddenly in front of me with his hands on my shoulders. "Did you hear me?"

My eyes snap up to meet his, suddenly irritated. I move out of his firm grasp, grabbing a chair on my way to Sam. "I heard you, Dean. You. Sit. Now." I point from Sam to the chair, going into auto-pilot, fixing the three inch long gash in the middle of his bicep. "How is it breached? If the beasts get hurt if they touch it, and demons can't touch it either, something human must have done it."

Bobby and Dean exchange worried glances. "You boys didn't just leave it that way, did you?"

Dean rolls his eyes. "Of course we didn't leave it that way, Bobby. What do you think we are? We had some goofer dust in the Impala."

"You think that will last outside? What if it rains or gets windy?" Bobby starts to fidget in his bed.

I shake my head as I pour some alcohol over the stitches. "It's not the beasts we need to worry about tonight. The full moon is done. There should be no activity of that kind tonight. And if a demon does decide to cross the threshold, it can't get in the house remember?"

Sam nods in appreciation. "It looks like it was done with a back hoe. There aren't any blast marks so it couldn't have been an explosive of any kind. Something like that would have made some kind of sound."

I reach for the journal I found earlier, and start thumbing through the old and weathered pages. "You know, Jonathan and Abraham both thought that the Hell beast was looking for something, not that it was necessarily there to kill them. And in my dreams, I told Alistair that 'I didn't know where it was, but that I could help him find it'. What if it is after something here?"

Bobby places his hand on his stomach, "not that I'm not itching to kill this thing but would it be too much trouble to get some food?"

I stifle a laugh and move to the corner of the large basement, grabbing a wheelchair before I start to turn off the vitals monitor. "Of course you can. We'll get you in the wheelchair, and the boys can get you upstairs. I'll get some dinner started."

When I catch Dean rolling his, I smack him in the arm. "You roll those eyes any harder and they're going to pop right out of your head. Besides, you are both big strong men. If you can't get Bobby up one small flight of stairs, what makes you think you could handle a night with me?" I whisper the last part into his ear, placing a small kiss where his ear lobe meets his neck.

Dean gives a small shudder as I walk away. "Sam you get the front, I'll take the back." His voice is much deeper than it was a few short minutes ago, and I can't stop the laugh that's bubbling out as I walk into the kitchen.

They place Bobby at the kitchen table before getting cleaned up as I throw some steaks on the grill, along with asparagus drizzled with lemon and butter, and potato cubes.

While I cook, Bobby wheels himself into the study, grabbing a few more journals dated later in the year and into the following.

There is little talk while we eat as we each have a journal, reading aloud when we find something of interest.

The food previously eaten feels like a ton of bricks in my stomach as Bobby reads aloud, all eyes on me when the dream of the future is spoken. My fingers fidget with the pages as I try and focus on their words.

_15 – March – 1913  
We have had a visit from the beast again. He has been seen every night of the full moon cycle since 1912 October. We have not been able to kill it. Harm it, yes, but nothing we have tried appears to do more than that. Mina has the feeling that it is looking for something. I had previously not been sure why she had that feeling._

_She has since confided in me that she has had dreams. Dreams of the future. A woman that is the spitting image of her, save for the hair color, is strapped down to a table. She is naked and bleeding. A demon possessed man is torturing her, carving into her flesh with multiple torture devices. There is talk of a 'trinket'. The woman doesn't know where it is, but she can help him find it. The same beast that hunts our land is there._

_Mina is concerned that people will think her insane. We have not told anyone except for Abraham of these dreams. I am deeply worried that all these years of hunting, along with our history with Dracula, have eaten away at her mind. I dare not speak these concerns aloud. I love my wife and will not let this path claim her._

It’s my turn to read, and three sets of eyes are on me as I do.

_25 – June – 1913  
After months of research and traveling, Abraham believes he knows what the creature is after. The number of beasts has been dwindling. The cause is unknown, but smaller beasts have started showing up over the last half century; cross-breeding appears to be the culprit. According to a Hoodoo priestess, there is a spell that will replenish their numbers and make them stronger than before. Lucifer has all but one ingredient, and it appears it is in this house. This ingredient is so rare that it is bordering on extinct. _

_Apparently it has been protected by the Murray family for thousands of years. Mina had no knowledge of this and her parents have been deceased for almost 10 years. We were able to track an heirloom that had been passed through the generations, something that Mina's mother gave to her on our wedding day; a brooch that she has worn every day since then. When opened, there was an unrecognizable herb protected by cloth. We are uncertain what to do with this herb. Are we to destroy it or protect it as it has been for several generations? What will happen to mankind should this fall into Lucifer's hand? I am, for the first time, afraid._

My heart is now in my throat and I feel like I'm going to throw up. I have the last ingredient that will replenish and increase the numbers of an army. An army of beasts that will more than likely kill every last person on the planet. It's like the Apocalypse all over again. "We need to find it and destroy it."

* * *

 

Ten days have passed since we found the journal entries about an herb that could replenish the minuscule numbers of a Hell beast army, the ancestors of today's werewolves. My great-great grandmother, Mina Harker, had possession of the brooch that held the final, and very rare ingredient. The four of has have torn our way through every journal that we could find, and we were no closer to finding a location to the brooch.

We seem to have fallen into a routine: I make us all breakfast while Bobby researches old books in the study, Sam scours the internet with pictures and journal entries scattered on the table and Dean... well, Dean seems to shadow me. He helps in the kitchen or out in the stables. He even makes calls and is able to get a contractor that can fix the broken iron rail roads in the back North West corner of the property.

I work nights in the pathology lab at the hospital, much to the chagrin of the guys living in my home. If I am off the property, if I am not in the house, then I am vulnerable. Not that I don't know how to protect myself, but there's only so much you can do against someone that is possessed. They are about ten times stronger than me, and honestly, that scares me. I have my anti-possession tattoo, a flask of holy water, the exorcism memorized, and a demon killing blade sheathed at my lower back. It is the sister blade to the one Dean carries at his hip, mine having been passed down through the generations.

* * *

 

Bobby is shuffling around the living room as I walk in, he had just started moving around in the last few days. His glasses are resting on the end of his nose, and another large book in his hands; this one black and very old looking. I give a wave as I carry the grocery bags into the kitchen. Sam is surrounded by paperwork and is typing furiously at the keyboard.

"You need help with any of that?" His eyes don't leave the monitor, immersed in information.

I groan as I slide the heavy bag on the counter, "actually yeah. You guys go through food like you're going through puberty... again." He chuckles deep in his chest as he comes over. "Where's Dean at?"

He nods towards the back, "the contractor showed up today to get a look at the damage. So, what's going on with you guys?"

My hand freezes on the pan handle as I set it on the stove, "Um, I... I guess I don't really know. We haven't talked about much except for the stupid herb. It - It's weird. Ever since you guys showed up, I've felt this connection to Dean that I've never felt before. Have you ever heard of... soul mates?" I turn around to see him start to wash and prepare sweet potatoes for fries.

His voice is steady, but I can tell he has doubt, "soul mates? I've heard about it yes, but I'm not sure it's something that exists. See, Dean... you need to understand something about him. He's not the commitment type."

I busy myself with cutting the potatoes, seasoning, and placing them in the oven. "I - no I didn't mean Dean. I just, it was just a question. You know what, never mind, Sam."

I take the pork chops that had been marinating out of the fridge and start to heat up the pan. I don't realize that I'm speaking out loud, and not just in my head, like it sounded. "My mother always told me that God had made one soul and broke it into two pieces, putting each half into a person. That those two people were soul mates, that they were meant for each other. I just... I have this feeling that - "

"That what?" Dean is standing in the kitchen, arms across his chest, and looking like he spent all day in the sun. The freckles on his nose and cheekbones are prominent against the darkness of his eyelashes when he blinks.

I'm not exactly sure why I feel the need to hide under a rock, but I do. I want to crawl under a rock and assume the fetal position. What if I'm the only one that feels this way? Sam said so himself, Dean is not the commitment type. What if I'm just another port in the storm? Maybe it was really just static electricity from the long trip up mixed with the dry Minnesota air.

A loud pop from the stove top catches my attention, and I jump in surprise. "D-dinner will be ready in 10 minutes guys."

The shuffling of feet behind me indicates that the brothers head to the bathroom down the hall to get ready and that the kitchen is clear. Once the meat and fries are done cooking, I set the table and help Bobby down into his chair. I pick at my food more than eat it while the guys discuss the possibilities of where the brooch is. Their voices melt together, and start to fade out.

Maybe Sam is right, maybe they don't exist. I mean, I fought the possibility of a soul mate the entire time I grew up, it was a ridiculous idea. Why did I have to be with someone? It's not like I couldn't be happy alone. I have been alone for the past 33 years, I didn't need someone...

Bobby places his hand on top of mine, "you still with us Ren?"

"I guess I'm not that hungry. There's some apple crisp on the counter. You guys can help yourself. I... I'll be right back." I step outside and feel the cool breeze push away the questions in my mind. My feet carry me away from the porch, from the voices drifting out of the kitchen windows, and out to the iron perimeter. The damage is great, the hole is at least 50 feet wide. That's what happens when someone rips at a solid piece of iron that's a foot thick.

Dean's voice starts to penetrate my thoughts, getting louder the more time passes. I don't turn around until it's right behind me, causing me to jump. "God Dean! Don't do that!"

His hands are up in defense, "whoa, sorry about that. I didn't mean to startle you. I just don't think you should be alone out here until the damage is repaired."

"Dean, about earlier. I just, I'm not really sure what's going on between us, and I guess I kind of need to know. I'm not putting pressure on you or anything." I pull my cardigan tighter as a swift breeze makes an appearance.

Dean stuffs his hands into his pockets and blows out a puff of air, his green over shirt flaps in the breeze. "To be honest, I don't know what's going on here. Ever since we got here and I met you... I guess... about what you were saying earlier, to Sam? Soul mates huh?"

I bite my bottom lip as I nod, "that's what I was told. My mom always said that the first touch would be like being struck by lightning, that you would want to be with each other no matter what; drawn to each other like flowers to the sun. Now... I don't know if... I don't want to scare you but, Dean, I think that's us. I have felt complete since you got here. I can't explain it. I want you… all the time. I want you here, with me, and I don't ever want to be without you. I think... God I don't know what I think."

His strong hands are on my shoulders, squeezing softly, and his eyes are bright, even in the small amount of moonlight. "I think that I feel the same way." His full lips are on mine before I can protest, not that I would by any means, and I groan in response when I feel his chest pressed against mine. There's this flood of electricity moving through my body as we kiss. It's not painful this time, it's soothing in a weird way. I don't think I'll ever get used to it if this happens every time we kiss, but I would like to find out.


	9. One Step Closer

"What if we summoned Crowley? We know Alistair wants the two of you, thanks in part to the dreams I've been having. We could tell Crowley we have the final ingredient and make a deal with him. Your lives for the herb?" You could probably hear a pin drop after I verbal vomit that idea.

Another 7 days has passed us by and we are still standing in square one. We had found a few leads over the past week, hoping they would bring us to the brooch, but we had no such luck. It's almost like it disappeared.

Bobby is the first to speak. "Where in the world did you come up with that hair brained idea? That's just plain stupid."

"Yeah yeah, I know... just a thought is all." I go back to reading a journal from Mina I had found one day while digging around up in the attic.

"Ren, you have to promise me, you won't go summoning anyone or anything. It's borderline suicide." Sam is sitting across from me in the living room.

"I promise, Sam. Besides, we don't even have the herb. What if they got rid of it already?" I lean forward, my elbows resting on my knees as I dig the palms of my hands into my eyes. We have all been up for over 24 hours trying to pinpoint the location of this stupid heirloom. I am getting to the point that if we never find it, it'll be too soon. Mina's journal is giving me no new information, just some ramblings of a woman that's seen too much. I slap the journal shut and feel my body protest as I stand to stretch my sore muscles.

The sun is high in the sky, showering the earth with her warmth. We are having an Indian summer. It is October, there isn't any snow yet and it was 75 degrees out. Not that I am protesting, any day in Minnesota where it's over 45 degrees is a welcome day. I walk out of the room and into the kitchen, grabbing a beer from the fridge. It has been a long day and it is only going to get longer.

It isn't long until I felt Dean's hands on my shoulders, fingers working at the tight muscles. "You need some rest."

I shake my head, not telling him to stop with the massage, but in disagreement. "I can't rest, Dean. Tomorrow night is when the full moon cycle starts and your guy hasn't even replaced the damaged iron yet." I was beyond pissed at this. I am not going to have some creature have access to the people I love just because some guy can't get off his butt.

His fingers stop moving before sliding down my arms, locking his fingers in mine. "I know. I've called and even gone down to his office; he's never in."

I turn to look up into his face, feeling his hands move around my waist as I turn. "What do you think we should do then? If this isn't fixed in the next 36 hours, we will have a Hell beast here again. And who knows, maybe it'll do worse than just gut someone." My tone is angry and sad.

He leans down to kiss my forehead, his lips lingering for longer than is really necessary, but I am not complaining. "Well, Sam and I could get a tractor from someone and try to bend the beams down that way."

"No, unless you know how to weld, that wouldn't keep the beast at bay."

"It's all I got right now, Ren. I don't know what else you want me to do here." He suddenly seems angry, but I'm sure it's the lack of sleep talking more than anything.

"Hey, I know you're tired. Hell, we all are. Look, why don't you guys go into town and pick us up some lunch. Maybe stop by the contractor's office and see if you can persuade him to come out tonight. I have money stashed away, I can pay him off the books if that's what he wants."

I tug him back in front of me and force him to meet my eyes. He nods before leaning down to give me a chaste kiss. Before I can open my eyes, he is in the living room, all but pulling Sam out of the room. I hear the rumble of Baby's engine turn over just as I walk into the study. Bobby is sitting behind the desk, his cane leaning against the solid oak.

"I thought you would have wanted to get out of the house, go with the boys?"

"Nah, I can get out plenty by going on the porch. Besides, I wanted to keep you company." He looks at me over the rims of his black rimmed reading glasses, concern taking over his features.

I grab another journal and tuck my legs under me as I sit in a large chair nestled into the corner by a window. "Bobby, you know I can handle anything that someone throws at me. I don't need a babysitter all the time."

"I know you don't, but it would make an old man feel better if you would just nod your head and say 'thank you' every once in a while."

I hide a smile behind the pages of the book, "thank you."

We read in silence, hoping and praying to find some sort of clue that will lead us to the brooch. I'm beginning to think it doesn't exist anymore. We had torn the attic apart before moving our way down, level by level, room by room. I practically memorized the drawings of the house Jonathan and Abraham had made, thinking there was a secret room or passage somewhere. But then I got to thinking, if it was private, they wouldn't want it on the map now would they?

The journals would be the next best thing, and trust me, they kept a lot of them. Jonathan more than Mina. Quincey hardly kept any since he seemed to be more academic minded than taking a role in the hunting side of the family. Jonathan made more than a few entries about how he wanted his son to follow in his footsteps, but that 'he was a man of the right age and could make up his own mind when it came to these matters.'

I hear a car engine start its way up the drive, but it wasn't the Impala. I glanced at the clock, the guys had been gone for just under two hours. Peeking out the window, I recognize my neighbor's truck, it is pulling a silver trailer. I motion to Bobby that I will take care of it, and he goes back to his pile of books.

"Hey neighbor. I haven't seen you in a while." Luke steps down from the truck, touching his finger to the brim of his hat in greeting.

I smile in response, it was cute when he did that. "Yeah, things have been kind of crazy around here lately. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"

He points to his trailer and I hear a familiar sound; it was Beauty. Oh! I had forgotten all about her running away the night of the attack. I run to the back of the trailer and open the doors, she still looks a bit spooked. I make my way slowly in, holding my hand out for her.

She pushes her velvety nose against my palm before I wrap my arms around her neck. "I am sosososo sorry!" I grab her reigns and start to walk her out, heading toward the stable. "Where did you find her?"

Luke closes the trailer before accompanying me on the walk. "About two weeks back we noticed that the trees seemed to be losing their leaves a bit early, but there wasn't anything on the ground. Then some of the feed for the cows started disappearing, and three days ago, she walked up the driveway and started pulling apples off our tree. She looked just awful. She had twigs and burrs in her mane and her tail was just a mess. Grant thought it best if we washed her down before returning her."

I latch the gate behind her, unhooking the rope, and handing it back to Luke. "I am so sorry, Luke. I had almost forgotten that she had gotten spooked and ran off. Thank you so much for bringing her back. You don't know what it means."

"It's no problem. How did she get spooked, if you don't mind me asking?"

I give her one last pat on her nose after filling her bucket with feed before I start walking back out to the truck. "We were out for a ride one night, and there was a he- a wolf in the trees back there. It must have thought we were easy prey or something because it started to chase us. We made it back to the house but I fell off and she took off toward the front."

"A - and the wolf?"

"Gone. Dean and Sam started shooting at it just after it attacked my uncle Bobby." I motion to the house.

A strange look comes over his face but he's quick to hide it. "So, you're not alone then?"

My feet take an involuntary step back, "No, no I'm not. Why?"

His hands disappear into his pockets. "I - I was just wondering. I thought maybe you and I c-could do something tonight, that's all."

"A date? Ok wait, I'm confused. I thought that you were with Grant?"

A nervous laugh escapes his lips, "with Grant? Really? I give off a gay vibe?"

"No, no it's not that you give off a vibe. I just thought... I hardly ever see you guys not together so I just assumed. I am sorry if I..."

"It's alright. You're not the first person to think that, we get it all the time. He's actually my cousin."

By the time we walk to the driver's side of the truck, I'm itching to get back inside and call Dean, they're taking entirely too long. "Well, if there's anything you need, let me know. I cannot thank you enough for bringing her back."

We say goodbye and I turn to walk away when he opens the door. What I don't hear is him walking up behind me. His large hand is over my mouth, but there's something else there too. It's a chloroform soaked handkerchief. I try to scream but it's a muffle against the fabric. I pull at his hand, clawing at the skin as I try to tear it away. It's not long before everything starts to go black, it feels like I'm looking down a really long tunnel. All my muscles relax and go limp as the drug takes hold.

One final thought scampers through my mind just before everything goes dark; Alistair is waiting for me.


	10. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bobby's POV.

I watch as the red truck with a silver horse trailer pulls down the driveway before my attention turns back to the book in front of me. I find an entry in Abraham's journal that gives a brief mention about the brooch, but nothing more. I fight the urge to throw the book in the fireplace behind me and light it up, but I’m not entirely sure that I would be able to explain that to Serenity.

Speaking of, it's been about ten minutes since the truck pulled away, she, and the boys, should have been back by now. I pull on my hat, and set my reading glasses on the desk before grabbing my cane. The stitches had come out last week, and while I could get around fine, Serenity wanted me to use to cane.

As I step onto the porch, I call out for her, scanning the front of the property, but there is no answer. The addition of Beauty doesn’t go unnoticed when I step into the stables. I pat her on the head, calling out for Ren as I go. Still no answer. By the time I get to the back of the property and she’s still not anywhere to be seen, my heart starts to pound harder.

Fishing the cell phone from my back pocket, I speed dial Serenity. It rings five times before going to voice mail. "Hey Ren, it's Bobby. I know you're probably just running around someplace, but you know me. Amuse and old man and call me back, ok?"

Just as I’m about to call Dean, the all too familiar rumble of the Impala’s engine roars up the driveway. I limp around the stable just as Dean pulls the car to a stop. With Sam on his tail, Dean is out the door and running up to the house.

"Boys!" Sam just about slams into the back of his older brother, he stops so quickly. The brothers turn to face me as I limp closer. "She's gone!"

Dean is the first to speak. "What do you mean she's gone?"

A red truck pulled up about 20 minutes ago, to bring her horse back I'm guessing, and after it pulled away I came out looking for her, but she was gone. I checked the stables, but when I didn't find her I headed out back. Thought maybe she was checking out the damage to the rails, but she wasn't there either. She's not picking up her phone." I slammed my thumb down on the disconnect button almost hard enough to crack the touch screen. "Where the hell you boys been?"

Dean's hands were in his hair, pacing back and forth while I talked. "We were headed to get lunch when I saw the building that the contractor said he was at, and there was an eviction sign out front. Sam and I went in, searched the building. It was completely empty except for one office. There was a desk and it had pictures scattered all over. Ren, the house, on her way to work, _at_ work, and on her way home. There were pictures of us, too. From the moment we got here until yesterday. Bobby, there was sulfur everywhere. Are you sure she's gone? Did you check the house?"

"Boy, she never came back in, but I know you. You're going to check anyway."

I hardly get to finish my sentence before Dean takes off running in the house with Sam close on his heels. Shouts of her name echo through the old home.

With a cold beer, I sit at the kitchen table and wait. It’s not long before Dean comes thundering down the stairs while his brother comes up from the basement. They exchange a look before shaking their heads.

Dean is pacing around the kitchen like a caged animal. "Did you see the driver? Which way the truck went?"

Shaking my head, I swallow the last of the beer. "No, it had parked up just past the office window. All I saw was the truck pull up and pull out. Whoever it was, they weren’t here long. Maybe five minutes. When she didn't come in after a few, I went out and looked for her. I did get a partial, 74-GL. You think you can get into the DMV, Sam?"

Sam had pulled out his lap top the second I mentioned the word partial. It doesn't take him long to get into the website.

* * *

While Sam is digging through the information, I wander into the front room, and pull out my phone. With shaking fingers, I dial her number. My heart drops when it goes straight to voice mail. "Ren, it's me... Dean. You got us really worried here, babe. Where are you huh? I know we argued earlier... look, just call us when you can ok? Please."

"I got it, his name is Luke Wuthers, and he lives down the road about 2 miles north. Bobby, how long was it between when the truck left and we got here?"

"I reckon it was about 10, maybe 15 minutes."

Sam clicks his laptop closed after scribbling down the address. "Dean and I will go and check it out. You stay here just in case she comes back. We'll give you a call."

* * *

With the boys gone, ran out as if chased by fire, I sit at the table and suddenly feel so alone. I don't know what I will do if anything happens to her. I won't bury another loved one, especially one so young. Wandering back into the office, I help the only way I can, and read more of Abraham's journal, hoping that there will be a clue. Maybe Serenity is right. Maybe Crowley will make a deal, and call off Alistair.

* * *

Getting an idea, I decide to start looking for hidden compartments in the desk. It wasn’t completely unheard of to have false bottoms on drawers and hidden compartments back in that time. The Impala roars up the driveway just as I start pulling drawers out, dumping their contents out. The boys are the only ones to exit the Impala. “Balls.” If it’s the last thing I do, I’m going to find that damn brooch.

Dean shakes his head as he passes the study while Sam goes in, putting his feet up on the desk. "Well… we think that Luke has her, but they’re not at his place. The house was a mess, but it doesn't look like a struggle happened; all the livestock was slaughtered. There wasn't anybody at the house, no clothes; nothing. Whoever was there got out real quick."

"Well they can't have gone too far. What's it been, one hour?" Dean wanders in after grabbing a beer. "Why don't we go to the sheriff, show 'em our State Marshall ID's and put out an APB on this Luke guy?"

"Wait Dean, how do we even know this guy has her?"

"Sam, Bobby saw his truck pull up and leave. He saw her go out there but not come back in. Of course he took her!"

Sam holds his hands up. "I get how it looks Dean but are we absolutely sure? It might not look the best, but they could have gone out and there's no reception where they are."

Dean's face changes from frustrated to downright pissed. "You really think that after what we just found on his property that they went out and there's no reception where she is? She wouldn't do that. She would have come in and told Bobby she was going out."

While the boys squabble, I continue to dig through the desk, knocking on the bottom of each drawer. "Would you boys stop and slow down? I know he's got her and we know where this leads; Alistair. But right now, we gotta find this brooch and find it fast. It's our only leverage to get her back and you know it. Now, we are going to tear this place apart and summon Crowley. If anyone know where Alistair is, it's gonna to be him. Sam, you take the attic. Dean you take the third floor. I'll continue looking in here. We don't stop until it's found!”


	11. A Little Bit of Information Goes a Long Way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV changes from Serenity to Dean.

My mouth is dry as cotton and I can feel my muscles start to twitch as they wake up from the chloroform. I struggle to open my eyes. My vision is so blurry I feel like I need to blink it away, but it isn't working very well. My heart hitches in my chest as I try to move my arms, but they are held down by something thick at my wrists. As the fog lifts from my brain little by little, I start to realize exactly where I am. I am naked and I am strapped down to a table shaped like a cross. I don't need to open my eyes to know there is a stainless steel table to my left that is littered with multiple cutting devices, more than you can imagine.

I hear a shuffling by my feet and lay still, hearing more the blood rushing in my ears than anything. Once I manage to get my heartbeat under control, I focus on the shuffling sound, and try to speak but it's more of a bark. There's cold water on my lips which I hungrily accept before coughing against the liquid.

"Slow down, child. Take it easy. There's plenty more where that came from." His voice is calm and steady, as are his fingers as they move along my chin, my jaw, and down my neck. When I shudder against his touch, he snaps the water away. "Now, now, honey. That isn't a way to treat me. I give you water when you're thirsty. I haven't done anything to harm you... yet."

My eyes fly open at that word and I watch as he picks up a large scalpel, shining it with a handkerchief that has the initials JRS. Probably from the meat suit he's wearing. My breathing gets ragged as he drags the dull side of the blade against the soft skin of my stomach.

"Now, I'm going to ask you a few questions and you're going to answer them, you hear me? Answer them honestly and we won't have any problems. I won't have to carve into your skin as if it were made of soft butter. Answer my questions and I won't have to gut you like a fish."

Goosebumps spread all over my body as he speaks. I know how this is going to go and I know that I don't give him the answers he wants to hear. I raise my head, catching his eye before I spit in his face. "I'd rather die a thousand times before I give you want you want." There's a sharp pain on my cheekbone as the back of his fist connects before he places the soft leather strap over my mouth.

His eyes are cold and dead as he rests his nose on mine. "That darling, was the wrong answer."

I struggle against the restraints, watching helplessly as he takes up the blade, and moves faster than humanly possible. I hear, more than feel it slice into my skin. The feeling doesn't register until a few moments later when the smell of iron hits my nose. I'm in trouble, and according to my dreams, this goes on for at least another five days.

Squeezing my eyes shut, I do something I haven't done in years, I pray. I pray long and I pray hard for someone, or something, to come and save me.

* * *

 

Serenity has been missing for 72 hours. With each passing day, I grow more and more frustrated. I know exactly what Alistair is capable of thanks to the 40 years I spent with him in Hell. Just the thought of his hands on her turns my stomach sour. I want to either throw up or punch a hole in the wall.

The three of us continue to search the house from top to bottom for the brooch, but on day three, it is still no place to be found. I’m beginning to wonder if it wants to be found.

Sam buries himself in the internet to see if it could have been sold or stolen. If it was, there’s a chance it can turn up in a pawn shop or at an estate sale.

Bobby is more at home in the study, reading through journals found in the attic that first day.

I do the best I can and keep my mind occupied by trying to find where Luke disappeared to. If he could be found, then so could Serenity. I don’t want to think about what she’s going through right now, even though I’ve already lived through it.

I know she’s a strong woman, but I’m not sure how much longer she can last. Her dream indicated she made it at least five days, but I don’t want her to suffer even that long. But the ticking of the clock, the rising and setting of each new sun and moon drove it closer to home that we may not even find her. Even worse, we may find her, but she may not survive. I can’t afford to think like that. I don’t want to know what my life will be like if she isn't in it.

We had just met, but I already want to spend the rest of his life with her. I can see himself marrying her and maybe even having a kid or two. As much as that idea scares the crap out of me, I want nothing more in this world.

When I first heard her say soul mates, I wanted to laugh and argue that there was no such thing. I didn't because I knew she was right. As weird as it is, feeling this way towards another human being after just meeting, I believe. I feel like a new person down to my core, like something that has been missing my entire life has been found.

I haven’t told Sammy or Bobby, but I love. No, I’m in love with her. I have loved only one person before and there's no comparing the two feelings.

* * *

It is late on the third day, and Sam and Bobby are in their respective places while I conduct my own research of Luke on Ren’s black laptop.

Luke Wuthers was born on September 3rd, 1980 in Grand Rapids, Minnesota. He is the youngest of 4 children, all deceased; perished in a house fire on the night of March 3rd, 1981. The fire claimed the lives of his parents as well. His aunt and uncle became his guardians and he grew up with his cousin Grant. They own two properties in the county. One 2 miles down the road and another on Lake Pokegama, about 10 miles South.

The hair on my neck stands on end. If Luke is there, then I’ll will be able to get information out of him.

"Sammy, you wanna go for a ride?" I spin the laptop around so Sam can see the property deeds I had found.

* * *

 

Alistair leaves me alone at night. He wants me rested for the next day of torture and questions. He gives me water during the day when my throat is hoarse from screaming and crying. My stomach stopped growling earlier this morning. He has a talent with the blade, I'll give him that. Is this why there was a look of fear in Dean's eyes when I mentioned Alistair's name? Had Dean been tortured as I was? I had seen Dean's chest and stomach, but he bore no scars.

Bobby had told me that an angel pulled Dean out of Hell a few years ago. Maybe all physical imperfections were healed at his touch. It must be nice to have an angel on your side. Not that I knew what that was like. Not one has shown up and I've been praying for three days now.

It is night now, the sun has long since set. The wounds received today have been cleaned and dressed. He may like to inflict pain on people, but he's not a complete monster. I shake my head as I process that thought. I must be close to losing it. I shift in the straps and gasp when the sheet shifts against the bandages on my thighs. Alistair cut really deep today. Sores were starting to appear on the skin pressed against the hard wood of the table. The skin under the straps has been rubbed raw from my violent thrashing. No matter how hard I pray for the strength to not react, I always scream and cry and buck.

There has been, and would continue to be little sleep. The same beast that attacked Bobby keeps watch over me. Mithra makes sure I don't attempt to escape. She is obedient to Alistair, and Alistair only. No, I take that back. She is only obedient to Alistair as she had been a gift from Crowley. I wonder briefly if Crowley knows what is going on. Of course he does. He's the King of Hell after all. Nothing goes on without Crowley knowing about it, right?

The moon is large and sheds her light through the one small window. Mithra seems anxious tonight. She's probably hungry and wants to go hunting. I don't imagine that the smell of my blood in the air is helping. Her paws make a loud thump on the dirt covered cement as she paces back and forth, large orange eyes flick from the window, to me, and back again.

"You hungry, girl?" It sounds like I gargled with shards of glass.

She stops and stares hard at me before a whine bubbles out of her mouth.

"You can go. I won't tell."

I swear she shakes her massive head in argument, ears falling flat against the top of her head. She resumes her pacing before picking a corner. Much like a normal dog, she circles the spot several times before curling up with a loud sigh.

Maybe if I can get her to trust me. I don't know how, but if I can, maybe she can help me out of here.

Like demons and angels, she can appear and disappear at will. Unlike her Hell hound descendants, the beasts are always visible. Lucifer had played scientist about 1,000 years ago and tried some cross breeding experiments, thus creating the Hell hounds of today. Werewolves ended up as a result of a few rebellious Hell hounds that escaped and preyed upon some timber wolves.

Mithra was one of the last Hell beasts remaining. At 1,500 years old, she was on the endangered species list. Her breathing is loud and starts to slow as sleep overtakes her. It is oddly hypnotic, and for the first time in a few days, I actually sleep.


	12. Striking a Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV switches between Sam, Dean, & Luke (OMC)

Luke is tied to a chair. His bottom lip swollen and bloody, left cheekbone and eyebrow matching. Pacing in front of him, Dean flexes his bruised hand open and closed. "Man, all you gotta do is tell me where he took her. I really don't care why you betrayed her."

I watch my brother as he leads the interrogation. The darkness that overtakes his features are concerning, but I know if it goes too far, I can step in and stop him. As if keeping an eye on Dean wasn’t enough, I keep a watch out the front window just in case someone decides to show up.

Luke had said his aunt, uncle, and cousin were out of town, that once Alistair released them, they ran. He had stayed behind because he felt guilty about Serenity and was planning on rescuing her. I shook my head at that. Luke was lying about something, I just didn't know what.

He grunts as Dean's fist collides with his face. "I – I don't know where she is. He took my family and said I had to take her, that she was to be traded! You have to believe that I would never willingly put her in harm's way!"

Dean, using the hem of his black t-shirt, wipes the blood off his knuckles. "You know what Luke, I don't believe you. Where was the exchange, huh?"

"It was at my place. As soon as I handed her over, they disappeared. I swear to you, I don't know where they are." Luke licks the blood off his lip and spits it onto the floor. His left eye is almost taken over by the swelling.

I exchange an irritated look with Dean, shrugging as I point at my watch. "We should go, it's getting late."

Dean rests his hands on the arms of the chair, placing his face inches from Luke's. "You have one last chance here. If I find out you're lying, I'm going to make you wish that he had killed your family." His voice is deep and full of so much anger his chest vibrates.

Luke swallows hard and can tell that Dean means what he says. "I don't know for certain. He said something about a cabin here, that he didn't want to take her too far from the Winchesters; which I'm assuming is you two." He looks hard into Dean's eyes, seeing something beyond all the anger and rage. "You love her don't you?"

Wait a second. Dean loves Serenity? I whip my head around, meeting my brother’s wide eyes.

Dean pushes away from the chair and dips his head in a curt nod. "Yeah, I think I do." He pulls a butterfly knife from his pocket and shakes his head when Luke let out a defensive yell, flinching away. He slides the blade under the ropes, releasing the beaten up man. He points at Luke. "Don't leave town. If we can't find her, we're coming back."

* * *

Rubbing my wrists, and touching the facial injuries gingerly, I nod at Dean. The Winchesters strut out of my cabin, and into their black car, taking off like bats out of Hell. When I said I didn’t know where Serenity was, I wasn’t lying, per se. I just wasn’t telling them the truth. She is being held in an abandoned cabin on the other side of the lake, and I am going to save her. I’m not going to let some Neanderthal steal the woman I love.

* * *

"Bobby, he's lying. He knows where she is, and he's going to do something stupid." Dean hasn't sat down since they got back to Serenity's. He keeps rubbing his knuckles as he walks around the room.

On the ride back, I didn't bring up the fact that Dean said he loved Serenity, and I wasn't sure if it should be brought up with Bobby or not.

Hacking into a database for abandoned properties, I look at my brother over the top of the screen. "What do you want to do Dean, follow him? If he has any brains in his head, he won't go out tonight. _We_ aren't going out tonight, especially with the full moon."

Bobby slams another journal shut in frustration. "I can't believe there is nothing else mentioned about that stupid pin!" He takes his glasses off, setting them on the table so he can rub at his tired eyes.

We are all exhausted, not having slept more than three hours a night since Serenity was taken.

"What if it's gone? That brooch was pretty gaudy. Maybe they moved the herb from that to something else? Does Serenity have any lockets passed down from her grandparents?"

Bobby lifts his head and looks at me. "Why didn't I think of that?" The older man is on his feet, cane forgotten at the table as he sets off for the second floor.

While Bobby is occupied upstairs, I decide to press Dean about the borderline profession of love. "Do you… do you want to talk about earlier?"

Dean's jaw works as he paces, hands are jammed in the pockets of his jeans. He shakes his head slowly. The only sound coming from him is the heels of his work boots as he walks.

"So when you told Luke that you loved Serenity… what was that? Was it to try and get a reaction out of him or what?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Sam."

"Well, I think that you need to. You're going to give yourself an ulcer or something."

Dean leans back against the counter, stretching the muscles in his neck. "I. Don't. Want. To talk. About it."

"I get it, Dean. You're worried about her because of who has her… but love? You just met her." I’m not doubting my brother’s ability to love anyone, because he has experienced it.

When Dean looks at me, his eyes are full of so much anger that I can’t help but flinch. "No, I don't really think you do get it. Alistair, Lucifer's right hand man when it comes to torture, has her. You didn't experience his vast knowledge of pain and torture. You didn't feel your flesh being pulled away strip by strip or have your muscles ripped away from your bones. You didn't have blades cutting away chunks of your body or slice into your skin as if it was made of butter. You didn't spend days on end screaming and crying so hard that your voice was gone. _That_ is who has her and _that_ is what he is doing to her. And yes, I do love her, Sam. I don't have to explain it to you, but I just do."

Knowing I had taken it too far, I nod once before turning my attention back to the property records.

* * *

I don’t feel like helping out anymore. All I want to do is find Serenity, and kill Alistair once and for all. The palm of my hand itches to plunge the demon killing blade deep into Alistair's chest.

Bobby is back a few minutes later with a small silver chain dangling from his fingers. He sits down at the table, next to me. “Martha gave it to Ren on her 16th birthday, said it was given to her by her mom, and hers before." The locket is opened, revealing a picture of Martha on the left with Alec on the right; it was from their wedding day.

Seeing there’s no herb inside, I groan heavily, but Bobby’s never been one for giving up so easily. He pulls the pictures out, spying another much smaller clasp. I quickly grab a paper towel and place it on the table, watching in anticipation as Bobby turns the locket over.

We all hold our breath as we peer at the fine powder, not daring to breathe on it, and send it into the air like dust. My heart lightens a little with hope. If we summon Crowley as planned, we might not have to wait for Luke to make a move. "What are we waiting for? Let's call Crowley."

Bobby wraps the powder in the towel and places it in a baggy, securing the top. "I say we wait until tomorrow. We still don't know where he's holding her for certain and there's too much risk doing it tonight."

Placing a hand on my shoulder, he looks at me with soft eyes. "Look, I want to get her back as badly as you do, but we can't go in there half-cocked. We don't have a plan, and when we don't have a plan, people get hurt or killed. I… I know you care for her, it doesn't take a genius to figure that out. It's killing me that we can't just go and get her, and I can't even think about what he's doing to her. But Dean, we need to wait. As much as it kills us, we wait. Ok?"

Nodding in agreement with my brother, I’m suddenly tired. Bobby and I work on a plan while Sam continues to pore through the records, eliminating property after property into the early hours of the morning. Finally satisfied with what we have come up with, we each head off to catch a few hours of sleep before summoning the King of Hell.

* * *

 

There is one small problem, we can't summon him in the house since there are multiple devil's traps, and in order to let him out,we would have to destroy the foundation, and each level of the house. Plus, we weren’t planning on killing him. For now.

I work on narrowing down the properties even further while Dean is in town getting the few ingredients Serenity doesn't have in the house. Bobby keeps himself busy by moving the horses from the stables into the pasture and spray painting the trap onto the cement floor. 

* * *

With the altar in place, the incantation said by Sam, and the ingredients set aflame, Crowley appears in the middle of the trap. His dark eyes don't look pleased, but his smoky voice says otherwise. "Hello boys. To what do I this unexpected pleasure?"

It’s hard to keep the anger boiling in my gut contained. "It's Alistair."

"Your old Hell mate. How's the old man doing?"

Sam takes a step closer to the trap, brushing my shoulder with his. "He's taken someone important to us, Crowley."

Crowley shrugs as he looks into each of our faces, finishing with me. "Who's this person to you?"

"She's important, that's all you need to know."

A short laugh escapes the demon's lips. "Why did you summon me? You guys know how to take care of a demon. Last I checked, you still had possession of the blade. What's stopping you from going in and storming the castle?"

Bobby walks closer to the circle, his cane echoing in the stables. "He has a Hell beast. Yeah, we know all about them."

A look of surprise quickly washes over Crowley's face before humor replaces it. "Why Bobby, what happened to you? You get too close for comfort?"

"Shut up, Crowley. We want to discuss a trade."

"A trade? What could you possibly have that I could need?"

Sam shoves his hands into the pockets of his jacket as a brisk mid-October breeze whips through. "We hear that the numbers of your beasts are damn close to extinct. What if we had the final ingredient Lucifer had been needing to complete the spell?"

"That's impossible. It was destroyed by a fire started by those crazy Harkers."

I can’t help but smirk at the demon. "Where do you think we got it?"

Crowley's brow furrows as his brain processes exactly what we are saying. "He has the descendant of Mina."

"Ding, ding, ding. We have a winner. Once you get us the girl, you get the herb, and you can rebuild your army of beasts so long as you keep them on a leash, and they stay in Hell. That's the deal."

"Well now, I have to think about it. What's to say that Alistair will even give her up? Last I heard, he had a bone to pick with you boys, and that he wanted you in Hell."

"You're the boss. _Make_ him trade." My anger crests, showing as my hands ball into fists.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that there were feelings stronger than friendship or family." Amusement plays with Crowley's voice.

Bobby speaks before I say, or do, something stupid. "Do we have a deal or not?"

"Let me out. I'll speak with Alistair. _If_ he agrees, I'll bring her back, and we'll conclude the trade. If he doesn't, then there's nothing I can do."

"If he doesn't agree, we burn the herb, and you lose your beasts forever."

After a few tense moments, Crowley nods at Bobby in agreement. I can’t help but withdraw the demon killing blade as Sam scratches at the dried paint, releasing Crowley from his prison. The demon vanishes with a wink and a smile.

Unease creeps into the pit of my belly as I sheath the blade. Shaking my head, I begin to regret the deal we just made. I know that this isn't going to end well. Alistair isn't one to make bargains. Crowley said that Alistair has a bone to pick with us. Bastard probably wants us hanging on a rack ready for torture.

Cutting through the heavy silence, Bobby sighs before turning to leave the stable. "Now we wait."


	13. Secrets

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switches between Serenity, Dean, & Luke’s POV.

Alistair is in the middle of slicing into my thigh with a blade slightly larger than a scalpel.

I scream against the leather strap and dig my fingernails into the palms of my hands, drawing blood.

There is a sound in the far corner that sounds like a bunch of feathers and gravel rubbing together, followed by a deep and heavily accented voice.

"Look who found something to play with."

The demon to my right stops mid-slice. The fingers pressed against my skin are slick with my blood as it pours out of the wound. A mix of shock and amusement plays with his features. "Hiya, boss. What can I do for you this lovely day?"

Crowley moves out of the shadows. The pain from the new wound is slowly starting to subside, and I blink the tears out of my eyes as I watch him walk closer. I expected him to be taller.

"We need to talk about your new... toy."

I watch the exchange, looking at each demon as they talk.

Alistair's eyes sparkle. "She's a beauty, ain't she?"

I shudder under the gaze of the two Hell dwellers.

"She sure is, but she needs to be put back where you found her."

Alistair clenches his jaw in anger. "No. I just started having some real fun with her. I'll put her back as soon as her rescuers come looking."

"That's not going to happen, Alistair. I just talked with the Winchesters, and they're itching to get her back. They even made a deal for her."

The air trapped in my lungs hitches. I’m going home... maybe.

"What do you mean, a deal?"

"They have something I want and we have something they want."

Alistair laughs, spreading goosebumps like wild fire along my exposed skin; they found the herb. "What could they possibly have?"

"That is not your concern. Will you give her up?"

My heart starts to pound harder than ever before as I strain to hear Alistair's answer.

"No. If they want her so badly, they can come and get her."

I try to hold back the sob that is threatening to burst out, but I fail miserably. Crowley gives me a sympathetic look before he vanishes.

Alistair runs his bloody fingers through my hair. "Shhh, it's alright. It will all be over soon. I've got some new questions for you."

* * *

 

Alistair moves his strong fingers to the leather strap against my chin. "No exorcism attempts or I'll slit your throat." The blade in his right hand is cool against my skin, and I know that all it would take is the slightest twitch and I would bleed out in three minutes.

Contrary to popular belief, death is not immediate after the carotid is cut. You lose consciousness within 30 seconds to 1 minute with death no more than two to three minutes after that.

Fresh tears well in my eyes before nodding my head as much as the strap allows. He releases the leather from the buckle and the air is cool rush against my warm skin. I wet my lips and try to clear my throat. "W – water, please."

His eyes are hot and angry as he stares at me. I'm scared. All I want to do is go home, and have Dean hold me while I cry. The realization that I might not ever leave this place hits me like a ton of bricks after hearing Crowley and Alistair's exchange. Any glimmer of hope I might have naively had, was stomped out. My stomach does somersaults as the cool liquid rushes down my throat, and I have to force myself not to throw up.

The water bottle in his hand is quickly replaced by the scalpel from before he was interrupted. "Now tell me, what do the Winchesters have that Crowley would trade a human life for?"

I shake my head as I blink away the tears. Fresh prayers are flying through my brain as fast as I can send them.

"Don't lie to me. I heard you react when Crowley was here. You know what it is." He switches sides from before, leaving the previous incision alone. He wants fresh skin and there is little realty left.

He seems to be tired of the silence, so he presses the blade against my skin causing blood to well up beneath the metal. Ever so slowly he pulls the blade down, pushing harder the further down my thigh he gets. It pulls a ragged scream from my throat, and I try really hard not to move. "All you have to do is talk to me and I'll stop."

The scalpel stops just above my knee and bends down, placing his face inches from the open wound. He draws in a deep breath through his nose, and it turns my stomach.

"Herb! It's an herb." It's a shadow of my former voice, all raspy and devoid of life.

His eyes flick up to mine and I feel more than see his fingertips play at the opening of the freshly cut skin. "Crowley wants an herb? What's so special about it?"

I really don't want to tell him what I know. Crowley didn't want to tell him either, and that is a huge red flag. "I - I don't know."

"What did I say about lying to me?" The entire length of his fingers disappear and it pulls a scream out of me that I don't even recognize.

I swear that I can feel him rub his fingertips along the muscles and push down to the bone. "The beasts!"

His interest is piqued as he lifts his head to look at me, not pulling his fingers from my flesh. "What about them?"

"It's the last ingredient for a spell that Lucifer needed to replenish the army of beasts. It was hidden in a family heirloom." I gasp for air, trying without success to ignore the indescribable and mounting pain.

He draws his fingers out slower than I would like him to. "Interesting. Now why would your family have such a rare ingredient?"

I lift my head off the table and summon whatever resolve I have left and stare hard into the meat suits dead grey eyes. "I am a Harker, and the Winchesters are going to kill you."

He moves faster than humanly possible. The blade presses against my neck while his free hand tangles in my hair, forcing us to be nose to nose. "It's a shame you won't live to see it."

* * *

 

Sam shouts my name, driving me out the back door with Bobby on my heels. My brother has a gun aimed at the demon’s head, and Crowley has made the wise decision to raise his hands.

"Don't shoot, I'm unarmed." There’s no hiding the devilish smirk he shoots me.

"I'm surprised you had the nerve to show up without her."

"You wanna call off your sniper?" He nods toward Sam, but the gun doesn't move. "It's not like bullets will hurt me."

"These ones will. We learned a new trick. You wanna see?" As if to prove a point, Sam pulls the hammer back.

There is a moment where Crowley looks worried, but it is gone in a flash. "I'm sorry mate, but Alistair says no deal."

Rage pours through every fiber of my body, and it takes everything in me not to tell Sam to shoot the devil's trap engraved bullet into Crowley's forehead.

Bobby's voice from behind me is oddly calming. "Well, a deal's a deal. Let's light it up boys." He digs the bag of powder out of his pocket while I fish for the zippo lighter in my jeans pocket.

"I didn't say you wouldn't get her back from him. I just said he wouldn't make a deal. I know where he's keeping her." Crowley tries not to sound desperate, but there’s no hiding the slight shake in his voice.

Just as I was about to flick the lighter open, my thumb pauses. "We don't need you to find her. There's someone else that knows where she is, and we can be pretty persuasive."

Crowley shoves his hands into the pockets of his black trench coat. "It's your call mate, but I wouldn't wait too long. She looked ready to give up and you know Alistair, he can be pretty persuasive." A smirk tugs at his lips.

Sam risks a glance at me, but I shake my head until he holsters his gun. "What's your idea Crowley?"

The demon smiles as he walks closer now that there isn't a gun aimed at him. "Knowing Alistair, he's interested in why I want to trade. He's probably gotten the truth out of your girl, and is getting his own ideas about the herb. He doesn't know it, but I know he's been plotting to overthrow me. This herb would give him the ammunition he needs. I’m pretty sure he leaves her alone at night, no doubt guarded by Mithra. She hasn't been allowed out to eat, and she's a hungry baby. Just because we can control the beasts, doesn't mean they can't kill us. Tomorrow night is the last night of the moon cycle. I say we make our move then. I'll relinquish Alistair's control over Mithra, get her fed, and then I get the herb when you have your precious girlfriend. It's a win-win."

I’m still fidgeting with the lighter. "Why not tonight?"

Crowley shrugs nonchalantly. "Might give Alistair false hope that he doesn't have to worry about us right away."

"But it gives him more time to torture Ren."

"There is that. It's your call, Dean-O. Go tonight without me or tomorrow night with me."

I don’t like it, but Sam and Bobby agree that having Crowley there is better than barging in without him. With a weary sigh, I nod at Crowley. "We meet here, tomorrow night at sunset."

"It's been a pleasure working with you boys." With a smile on his lips, Crowley snaps, vanishing into the night.

Sam brings up a good point. "What about Luke? You said yourself he's going to do something stupid. He'll get himself killed if he goes by himself."

As if I don’t have enough on my mind. I run a hand over my face before heading to the Impala. "Let's go pay him a visit."

* * *

 

Behind the cabin, there’s a large, hundred year old oak tree that I’m currently taking aim at. Even though my left eye is giving me a bit of trouble, it’s almost completely healed. Despite how many times Dean had hit me, I have always had a knack for quick recoveries.

When I was five, I fell off a horse, and snapped my forearm. A clean break, the doctor said. He also said it would take eight to ten weeks in a cast before it was fully healed. They took the cast off one week later. Then, when I was ten, I noticed that things came to me if I thought about them hard enough. I had told my family about it when I was twelve, but they told me to keep it a secret. People will treat you differently, like you're a freak. They were the ones that treated me like a freak, taking my gifts for granted.

Alistair approached me a week ago, saying he had my family held at a cabin across the lake. He would release them on one condition; bring him Serenity Hatfield. Two days later, I met Alistair at my house, my three remaining family members were beaten and bloody, but they were alive. Alistair, his beast, and Serenity vanished before my eyes. Never have I ever felt so much relief, and yet, I couldn’t’ believe that I had traded the woman I love for the lives of my family. I told my family to get out of town and not to look back. If they didn't see or hear from me inside a month, I was dead, and they were not to come looking for me.

All that anger was great for fuel. I used it to hurtle throwing knives deep into the wood. I practiced, getting better with every day. I wasn’t going to get another shot at it. One thing I hadn't expected was Dean and Sam showing up on my front step asking questions about Serenity. Just who did they think they were? They show up out of nowhere and claim to be ‘family’. She never spoke of them, they had to be lying, and I hate it when people lie to me.

Pulling the last of the knives out of the tree, the unmistakable rumble of their car came up the driveway. There’s no way I’m going to let them get the jump on me this time, so I hide behind a tree, and take aim with a knife, waiting for the car to come to a stop.

When the brothers step out of the car, I let my power take the knife, and hurtle it toward them. Sam gives a shout a split second before the knife would have plunged into Dean’s arm.

Dean dives to the ground as the blade sinks into the frame of his car. Pulling out a gun, he aims it for the tree that I’m currently hiding behind. "I know we got off on the wrong foot, Luke, but we didn't come here to fight. We need to talk."

"Oh yeah? About what? How you think I'm working with him?"

Sam has his gun pulled and is using the roof of the car to hold his arms steady. "We never thought you were working with him, man. We just came to talk about Ren. She's in real trouble."

I slide the knives back in the black leather pouch strapped around my waist, and come out from hiding, hands held in the air. "What kind of trouble?"

Dean and Sam holster their weapons, and as Dean stands up, I give a flick of my wrist. The knife flies out of the Impala and into the pouch with its mates. I have a hard time hiding the smirk that plays with my lips.

The brothers exchange a look of surprise. "Looks like you have something you need to tell us first."

* * *

 

Sitting down across from the Winchester’s, I tell them my story. "I was just a baby when my parents died, and my aunt and uncle became my guardians. It wasn't until I was in kindergarten that I realized I was different from all the other kids. I could do everything they did, and I either didn't get hurt or I healed a hell of a lot faster. I broke my arm when I jumped off the top of the swing set and the cast came off a week later. I became the daredevil in the family, taking up bull riding and even won some state championships, wrestling in middle school, and football in high school."

"What about moving objects?"

I nod reluctantly at Sam. "I got really sick when I was ten, had a fever of 104, so they admitted me to the hospital. I wasn't able to heal quickly from that for some reason. I was in the hospital for over a week when I started to notice that the more I concentrated on something, the more it would move. I first noticed it with the Bible that was on the table, so I focused on that when I was alone. Day by day I could get it to move a little more. After my fever broke, they released me, and I began practicing whenever someone wasn't around. I’d fly my toys across the room, putt away tools in the barn, and fold my clothes… little things. I don't know where they came from-"

Dean leans forward, forearms on the table. "How did your parents die?"

"A house fire, there was nothing left. It burned down to the foundation."

"Do you remember how old you were?"

"I guess around six months old."

Sam's eyes open wide like saucers. "Six months old?"

"Yeah. Is that important?"

Sam turns his eyes to Dean. "Thirty-two years ago our house burnt down when I was six months old. A demon came into our house after making a deal with our mother in exchange for someone's life. He fed me his blood, and when she tried to stop him, he pinned her to the ceiling, and burned her alive. About seven years ago I started having visions of things that hadn’t happened yet. Other people that were like me were hurting those around them. During one investigation, I was able to move a dresser with my mind."

I stare hard at Sam. I had never met anyone that was able to do what I could. "You're saying that you… that I swallowed blood from a demon, and that's why I'm able to do these things? What about now? Are you still able to do anything like that?"

"I guess so. You were probably fed Azazel's blood when you were a baby, and that's why you can move things and heal fast. Me? I haven't been able to do anything for a few years now."

Processing the new information, I drum my fingers against the table. I knew I was different from everyone else, but not ingesting blood to gain superpowers, different. It’s not like in the comics. It’s not something glamorous. I drank blood… demon blood. My stomach rolls loudly, and I fight the urge to run to the bathroom and throw up.

Finally, I nod in acceptance and try to ignore my brain as it calls up memories of my family calling me a freak. "So tell me about Serenity. How are we going to save her?"

The brothers fill me in on their plan. When Dean brings up Alistair having the ability to make someone beg for death, I get furious to the point that I can’t control my power. Objects in the house start to shake on the shelves.

* * *

 

I give my brother a worried look. "Luke, calm down alright? We aren't going to let anything happen to her."

"You've already let something happen to her. He's had her for four days now, and you're not going to try and save her until tomorrow night?!”

"We weren't the ones that traded her life for someone else's!"

"We get why you did it Luke, it's your family. But you can't go blaming us for this one."

The rattling of ceramic figurines and the plates in the cupboards grows louder with each passing second. I watch as Luke’s face goes red with all the concentration he’s putting into his powers.

I take out my gun and slap it against the table. "Luke, pull it together and now! Sam and I will get her out of there."

When Luke turns his gaze to me, I see that his eyes are no longer blue, but dark brown. No, they’re black. "You think I'm going to let you screw this up for me? I will be the one to get her out of there and you two will leave town."

The silver with mother of pearl handle gun beneath my hand starts to shake while Sam ducks as a ballerina flies off the wall and crashes into the table. I try to hide the fact that my voice is shaking. "Luke, if you do this alone, you will get killed and worse, you'll get Serenity killed. If you want to do this, it's with us."

"Or what?"

"Or Sam pulls the trigger on the tranq gun aimed at your stomach, and we stuff you in our panic room."

With the threat of being shot, Luke turns his anger fueled gaze to Sam. "You think a panic room can hold me?"

"This one is special. One just like it held me at the height of my powers. It can hold you." Sam’s face pinches in concentration as Luke’s power slams into him like a ton of bricks.

I reach down and pull the small tranq gun out of its holster, taking aim at the man to m left. "You either calm down now and we talk about this, or we take you down. It's your choice."

Sam holds his own against the mounting pressure as more figurines jump off the multiple shelves, sending shards of plaster and glass through the air. He looks at me and gives a shake of his head indicating that he can't hold off much longer. Sighing loudly, I pull the trigger.

Luke gasps as the dart hits him square in the stomach. The liquid is in his bloodstream immediately, and all the clattering stops. He pulls the dart out and tries to stand, but his legs are already weak as each beat of his heart pumps the drug through his system.

I stand up grab Luke so he doesn't hit his head on the edge of the table.

Reaching for my shoulders, he tries to speak, but the drug is taking its toll. He falls limp in my arms before Sam reaches us.

* * *

 

After disarming Luke, Sam and I lock him in the iron panic room in Serenity's basement. Bobby looks at us with a fatherly scowl. "Is it impossible for you boys to have a civil conversation with someone?"

Grabbing a beer from the fridge, I force a chuckle. "Sam, you want to tell him or should I?"

The scowl is replaced with confusion as Bobby sits down at the kitchen table.

Sam sits across from the older man, telling him everything that was said and happened at the cabin. "There are a couple things that don't make sense to me. Why didn't I have a vision of him? Why wasn't Luke with us when Azazel was weeding us out? Luke said he practiced with his powers, so he should have been on Azazel's radar."

"I don't know, Sammy. I also don't know how long he's going to stay down with his healing ability.” I take a seat next to my brother, my stomach rolling with unease. "I don't like this waiting crap. I don't see why we can't go tonight."

"We made a deal with Crowley, and he has a point about the Hell beast. If we go in without someone that knows how to handle one, we are signing our own death certificates." Bobby's voice is soft as the sun sets behind him.


	14. Trapped In a Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switches between Serenity, Dean, & Alistair’s POV.

"So, this herb that Crowley wants will replenish the Hell beast army, making it even stronger than before. Where did they find it?" Alistair had run out of room on my thighs hours ago, and had since started slicing into my left bicep.

Once again, he makes me promise not to utter a syllable of the exorcism or it's lights out for me. I always promise, but to be honest, I'm in so much pain and crying so hard, that I don't think I could if I wanted to.

I shake my head and try hard not to cry further. "I don't know." I gasp when the blade cuts into my skin, nicking the bone underneath. "I swear! Luke took me before I knew where it was. We were still searching for it! Just make the deal with Crowley, and you'll get the herb. You can have the army you've always wanted." Alistair had let it slip that he was planning on overthrowing Crowley as the King of Hell.

The demon makes a disgusted sound before tossing the large blade back to the metal table. "I should never have told you that. I can't let you live now." He's about to reach for a device that looks oddly similar to a melon baller when Mithra appears in the far corner. A deep growl announces her presence.

I've been able to hear her materialize these past few days. It sounds similar to striking the igniter strip on a box of matches. I let out a sob, because the appearance of Mithra means that Alistair is done slicing into my skin.

You would think that after four days of having blades, along with other various sharp instruments cutting into me, my nerves would be shot, and I wouldn't be able to feel anything. That's not the case. If anything, the nerves are heightened, and the pain mounts with each incision. There are only two patches of skin that remain untouched, my chest and stomach. I know what tomorrow brings, and my system is assaulted with waves of nausea.

With a sigh of resignation, Alistair cleans and dresses the wounds with such care that it's unnerving. He presses his lips against my forehead, disappearing before I can struggle at his touch.

Not that I would have tonight. I'm more tired than I have ever been, and I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to make it. I just hope that the guys come for me soon. Otherwise, I know I will be asking Alistair to kill me.

Mithra must have sensed my resignation, because she comes over and rests her massive snout against my hand. She has been uncharacteristically kind to me these past few days, even with her hunger.

"Are they at least feeding you during the day?" Her large copper eyes meet mine, and I catch a twitch of her head. My hand is pressed against the hard wood; yes. I’m able to twitch my fingers, scratching her matted fur. I don't know why I am drawn to her, or why she is acting this way towards me. Maybe it's her old age. Or she knows what Alistair is doing is wrong.

"Does Crowley approve of this, what Alistair is doing?" Her ears fall flat against her head as she gives it a small shake. A growl deep in her throat vibrates against my hand.

"Have you seen Crowley? Has he said anything about Dean and Sam?" I try not to let the hope show in my voice. Her head moves against my hand again; yes. Fresh tears spring to my eyes. They're going to come for me. I whisper a thank you when I feel her fur brush against my side as she settles in for the night next to the table before exhaustion takes over my body.

* * *

 

With a snap of my fingers, I’m standing outside the house, watching the three forms move from room to room. Ever since that stupid Angel pulled Dean out from Hell, I’ve wanted nothing more than to get him back on the rack. Sam was just a bonus; both Winchesters in Hell at the same time. Just the thought of it gives me a thrill.

I can’t help but smile when I think about all the fun I can have. There’s this feeling I can’t shake that Dean won’t take long to break, unlike the last time. Since Dean had been ripped from my possession, I have picked up some new tricks.

If I had things my way, I wouldn’t be leaving Serenity alone at night. I wouldn’t dress her wounds or let her sleep. I would torture her day and night until she went mad from it. But I didn’t want her to go mad. I wanted to keep her alive just until her knights in shining Winchester armor rode in on their white horses to save the day. Then I would kill her, whether she wanted it or not. She was close to begging me for death. I could feel it in the air, in the way she whimpered, and cried out.

Now, if I could get my hands on that herb then I would have my own army, and get rid of Crowley. He doesn’t deserve the throne. He wasn’t the one to stand by Lucifer, be at his beck and call. I had served Lucifer for over a millennia, and how was I treated when Lucifer was cast into the cage? A mutiny broke out amongst the demons, and Crowley struck me down.

Anger mixed with excitement ripples through the air as I think about what tomorrow brings. I’ve heard whispers that the recovery will take place then. "You will fall Crowley, and I will be the one to rip out your throat."

* * *

 

_I slow the Impala to a stop outside the property. With my brother riding shotgun, Bobby and Crowley are in the backseat looking like they'd rather be anyplace else. As much as I want to run into the building with guns blazing, I find myself glued against the seat. I wipe my palms against my thighs, trying without success to calm my rapidly beating heart with deep breaths._

_With shaking hands, I triple check my gun, making sure the magazine is full of the bullets that have a devil's trap carved into the tips. Sam and Bobby follow suit before stepping out of the car. We don't want to park too close since the Impala isn't exactly the stealthiest of vehicles, so I park her ¼ mile off._

_Without a word, Crowley disappears as planned. He would intercept Alistair as he was finishing with Serenity for the night, buying us some time to get to the cabin._

 

_Even though I’ve checked numerous times for the demon blade at my hip, I check it again. My stomach pitches almost violently as we approach the rambler style building._

 

_There are two doors; one at the back that Crowley will be guarding, and the one in front. We enter the cabin with almost too much ease. With guns drawn, we do a sweep of the front room, making damn sure it's clear. Bobby makes a devil's trap in the doorway after closing the door. If Alistair were to try leaving in his meat suit, he wasn't going to make it out this way._

_I can feel Sammy at my back each time we enter a room. I make sure the path ahead is clear, Sam makes sure nothing is hiding out of sight, and Bobby draws a trap in each doorway._

 

_Just as we are about to enter the final room, a high pitched scream pierces the silence._

_I’m the first one through the door with Sam and Bobby close behind. Crowley is on the floor, and I can’t help but pray that it’s just his meat suit. There's a large cut at his neck, and I can see the white of the spine glistening in the fading sunlight._

 

_Alistair is holding a machete that has sigils etched into the blade, looking eerily similar to the blade in my possession. Any nervousness that was eating away at my stomach earlier, rises two-fold in my chest._

_Serenity is spread out on the cross shaped table she had described from her nightmares. There are so many cuts on her flesh and chunks missing that I have to look away. Lifting my eyes, I train my gun on Alistair._

 

_Alistair sees that he has visitors, and places the blade dripping with demon blood against Serenity's throat. She lets out a not too soft sob._

_Not that I blame her. I know what those hands are capable of. "Let her go Alistair!"_

_A laugh that borders on maniacal echoes in the almost empty room. "Now why would I want to do that Winchester?"_

 

_The demon and the love of my life are no more than fifteen feet away. I take a risk, and start to slowly move toward the table. "We have what you want, the herb-"_

_"It's not just the herb I want Dean. It's you and your brother rotting in Hell where you belong!"_

 

_"You and I both know that I won't let that happen, Alistair."_

 

_A chuckle pours out of Alistair's mouth that sets my teeth on edge. "You have no choice in the matter. I'm going to kill your pretty little girlfriend, skin Bobby alive, drag your souls to Hell, **and** get my hands on that herb, all before your puny little mind registers what I'm doing." _

 

_Bobby and Sam spread out behind me, but it does very little to calm my nerves. I have seen Alistair in action more times than I’d like to admit, and I know just how fast the demon can move. With the blade still pressed against Serenity’s neck, I notice her chest rise and fall, but not as fast as it should be, which can only mean one thing. She had been fatally wounded before we stepped in the front door._

 

_Making a split second decision, I pull the trigger. Sam and Bobby’s weapons fire, echoing through the small room._

 

_Alistair moves in a blur. The blade in his hand sweeps across Serenity's throat, and is sending Bobby's skin to the floor before the arterial spray from Serenity hits the ceiling. I turn around just as a bloody and skinless Bobby hits the floor with a wet smack._

_While Sam fires his weapon, I can’t help but feel like I’m running to the table in slow motion. Just as I press my hand against Serenity’s throat, Alistair swings the blade up, slicing my brother from stomach to chin. He is dead before his knees hit the floor._

 

_Looking down at Serenity, I watch the light fade from her once bright blue eyes. Blood pulses out of the wound and through my fingers as I lean down, kissing her one last time._

 

_Three words are whispered against my lips. "I love you."_

_The flow of blood starts to slow, and I watch as the life drains out of her with every beat of her heart. I can’t stop the sob before it escapes. Everyone I’ve ever loved is dead. Rage overcomes the sadness as I lift my blood stained hands to close her dull blue eyes._

_Alistair smiles as he reaches up to wipe the blood off his face, the blade at his side is dripping with it. He lifts up his free hand, motioning for me to come after him._

 

_After wiping the blood from my hands on my thighs, I unsheathe the blade, and with a primal shout, I charge Alistair._

"Dean!"

I struggle against the person holding me down before I realize that it’s my brother, and not Alistair, that I am fighting. Sam releases me after I nod, letting loose the grip on the blade.

After running my hand over my face for a minute, I finally decide to talk to Sam about what just happened. "Either I just had a really bad dream or I'm starting to have visions."

"Is this about the exchange?"

"Yeah, I don't think it's going to go according to plan."

Sam tips his head to the side. "What makes you say that?"

I can’t do anything but shrug. "Gut feeling? Do you remember when Azazel took you to that abandoned town and made you guys fight, and I had that vision telling us where you were? It felt just like that. Only this felt… real. Like we were there, and I felt her blood against my hands as I tried to save her." Every detail about the dream spills out before I even try to stop it. I watch as the color drains from Sam’s face.

"What do you think we should do Dean?"

"I don't know, Sammy. What if we brought Luke with us? Maybe having one more person on our side might help. I know he's angry, but maybe we could use that to our advantage."

"So you're ok with us walking into a death trap?"

"Yeah, if it means I tried saving the woman I love."


	15. An Angel on Our Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switches between Serenity, Dean, & Bobby’s POV

_Alistair slides a blade down my forearm, just deep enough to draw a steady stream of blood. I whimper as my skin separates, and the warmth of my blood flows against my skin. Day five is coming to an end and the demon hasn't appreciated my inability to cooperate. A noise in the far corner gets my attention. Crowley has appeared and Alistair is anything but pleased._

 

_"I told you no deal, boss." Boss is drenched in sarcasm and disdain._

 

_Crowley stands by my feet, shaking his head. "It didn't have to come to this Alistair."_

 

_I watch as my tormentor licks my blood off his fingertips and it turns my stomach. "And I'm telling you, it did. I've seen some of the things you've done Crowley, why does this bother you so much?"_

 

_Disgust plays across Crowley's features. "I'm not completely heartless, you sodding idiot."_

 

_Alistair drops the scalpel used to slice my arm, and picks up a machete I haven't seen before. Surprise grips me as I see the same sigils on both Dean's and my demon blade._

 

_I try to warn Crowley, but my voice is just about gone from screaming for the past twelve hours. Digging down deep, I give it all I have left and scream._

 

_Alistair moves in a blur of demonic rage, and Crowley's head snaps back with a bright orange glow. His meat suit falls against the concrete with a sickening thud._

 

_The door to the torture room slams against the wall and I hear Dean's voice just as I fade out. I'm losing too much blood too fast, and it’s then I know I'm not going to make it. Suddenly, there's a white hot pain on my throat and I see my blood stream out against the ceiling. Fear grips me as more blood pours out, feeling like a waterfall against my neck._

 

_Gunfire erupts behind me and in a slow blink, Dean is in front of me, hands on my throat as he tries feebly to stop the blood that's vacating my body. I feel like a fish as my mouth opens and closes. I want to talk to him, tell him that it's ok to let me go._

 

_His lips are against mine when I manage to whisper what I've wanted to tell him since the first time I saw him, and then he's gone. Darkness takes hold, and I feel myself letting go with each slow beat of my heart as it pushes every last drop of blood onto Dean's hands._

 

Something hot and wet is on my face and I jerk against the restraints.

Mithra whines against my face before nudging my shoulder with her snout. It's darker than dark in the room and I focus on the brightness of her eyes. They're both creepy and beautiful at the same time. I work hard to get my heart to slow down to a normal pace.

She sits down with her head against my stomach, whining low in her throat.

"I - I'm ok... I think. Holy shit." I haven't had any other vision type dreams besides the one I've told Dean, Sam, and Bobby about, but if tomorrow goes as predicted, we are all screwed.

* * *

 

The smell of coffee all but pulls me down the stairs, and into the kitchen where Sam and Dean are both drinking out of large mugs and arguing.

"Sam, I don't like the idea of bringing Luke in any more than you do, but we don't really have another option."

"Have you even tried calling Cas?"

"He's not answering!"

"Dean, you said yourself this house is covered in sigils. Have you tried calling him outside of here?"

"Just how long have you boys been up?"

Dean stands up from the table, stretching and giving a loud yawn. "About five hours."

"Why are you fighting about tonight? I thought we had all the details ironed out."

Sam drains the last of his coffee, "that was before Dean had a dream."

"A dream is what’s getting you all riled up?"

"Bobby, it wasn't just a dream. Remember when Sam got taken and I had that vision? It was just like that, only way worse." Dean tells me every detail of the dream, watching as I absorb the news.

When I don’t say anything, Dean turns an angry gaze to his brother. "I don't like using Luke just because he has powers like you did."

"I say we call Cas. He can't ignore all three of us. Dean, do you know if he still has that phone we gave him a while back?"

"I don't know. The last time I tried calling it, it was disconnected."

Sam runs his hands over his face, groaning into his palms. "Dude, we gotta think of something. If Serenity's dream, _your_ dream are right, we are so screwed."

"You think I don't know that, Sam? Alistair is one of the fastest and most dangerous demons in Hell. I trained under him!"

"I know you did Dean, and I'm all for saving the girl but –"

"But nothing! We are going. End of discussion!" Dean slams the screen door behind him as he storms outside.

Sam and I watch through a window as he strides away from the house. With his brow furrowed, Sam turns to me, shrugging before going down to check on Luke. 

* * *

 

The dream plays over in my mind as I storm away from the house. I’m tired, pissed, and missing Serenity. Every fiber in my body wants to hold on to her for the rest of our lives. Once my feet reach the damaged iron, I stop.

"Cas, you know me, and you know how much I hate doing this, but I - we need you. We got a situation, and it's bad. I think we're gonna die if we don't get some help. Please, we need you buddy." I look around the property as wind begins to blow through the leaves. A disappointed sigh escapes when no one appears.

Shaking my head, I turn, walking back to the house.

A sound of feathers rubbing together reaches my ears as Cas appears. "I hear you, Dean."

I jump back just as I’m about to slam into the Angel's chest. "Dammit Cas! Where the hell have you been?"

"Around."

"Around? That's all you're going to tell me."

"That's all I can tell you."

"Whatever. Look, I'm glad to see you, man. We have been calling –"

"I know. I have heard every call."

"And you're just getting here _now_?" If I knew my hand wouldn’t break, I’d punch him square in the chin.

"This is the first chance I've had. I'm busy, too you know."

"Busy with what? The war is over –"

"The war is never over Dean."

"Look, I don't want to fight with you, Cas. Since you've heard every call we've made, I assume you know what's going on down here?"

"I do."

"And... can you help?" Jesus, it’s like pulling teeth.

"I have been instructed not to."

"Who is giving you instructions?"

"I can't tell you that."

"You can't tell me where you've been, what you've been doing, or who is in charge. What can you tell me?"

"That I have defied my orders to help the Winchesters, again.

* * *

 

With the Angel close behind, I walk into the house just as Sam is coming up from the basement. Bobby is still at the table, a big and tattered book in front of him.

Both men look up with surprise on their face. Sam pulls Cas into an awkward hug while Bobby just nods in acknowledgement.

Cas nods in response. "It's nice to see you too, Sam."

"I was hoping you'd come."

"This is the first I've had a chance to get away. It's… messy upstairs. So, this Serenity girl, she's important to you?" His bright blue eyes meet mine, and all I can do is nod. 

Bobby and Sam nod in agreement. "What is your plan of attack?"

I fill Cas in on every gritty detail of the plan, along with the dreams that both Serenity and I have had.

"I gotta tell you, I didn't expect you to show up."

"I wasn't supposed to. I'm still doing penance for my betrayal." A dark look washes over his face. "You say you have a man with powers downstairs? Do you feel he's dangerous?"

"Sam and I both saw the beginnings of what Luke is capable of. But he won't be able to stand up to Alistair. He’ll be dead in a matter of seconds."

"We have him locked in the panic room downstairs. I just checked on him. He's awake and trying to break through the door, but he's not doing any damage. He won't listen to me. He believes that only he will be able to save her. Dean, I think he's in love with her, too."

Cas moves his gaze from to me with confusion in his features. "In love with her, too?"

Running a hand over the back of my neck, I chuckle softly. "Yeah, about that… you ever hear of soul mates?"

"They rarely find each other, but yes, they do exist. Are you saying that you believe you and Serenity are soul mates?"

"Yeah, I am."

"How do you know this?"

"I can't explain it, Cas, and God knows I've tried. It's just a… feeling. I can't stop thinking about her, I want to be _with_ her all the time, and I want her all the time. I feel different when I'm around her. I want no harm to come to her, and if it does, I'll kill anything to make it go away."

"I must report this."

"What? Why?"

"If soul mates find one another and are then taken apart, all the powers of Heaven will reign down upon the assailant."

"Again, what?"

The Angel sighed in frustration. "God created one soul, split it into two different humans, and placed them at opposite ends of the planet. He watched to see if they could find each other. He _wanted_ them to find each other, but would not intervene. Once they succeeded, it was the most beautiful thing He had ever seen, so He started to create more. But one day, a demon had put together what God was doing and wanted nothing more than to destroy what He had made. The demon surprised the couple and killed the man. God was angry, beyond any anger we had ever seen. He sent down his wrath and smote the creature. The woman cried out to God, and so He offered to bring her soul mate back to Earth where he promised they would live full and happy lives or He could take her to Heaven where they would be together instantly; forever."

The silence that stretched after got to Dean. "Well? What did she decide?"

"She chose to live with him on Earth."

"You said that God stopped creating soul mates? How long ago was that?" Sam had taken up residence next to Bobby.

"Just over a millennia."

I shook my head. This was getting to be too much. "How is it that we are here, now?"

Cas shrugs subtly. "I do not know, which is why I should report this."

"You can't leave now! What if they don't let you come back? We are meeting with Crowley at seven, and we need you there. We need you to help us save her." I try not to sound like I’m begging, but if getting down on my knees would help, I was going to do it.

Cas looks at each man, finally nodding slowly. "I will help. What should we do with Luke?"

Bobby chimes in, "well we can't keep him locked in the basement forever, but those walls will hold until later tonight. I say we leave him there and when we come back, you have a chat with him. You can't take away his powers can you?"

"I have never tried, but there is always a first time for everything."

"Well, we will probably use up most of your reserves for any injuries. So let's not jump the gun on taking away anyone's powers just yet." I shift on my feet, crossing one over the other as I lean against the counter.

"Does Crowley know that I am to assist?"

"No, but he'll find out when he gets here in a few hours."

"That should be…. Interesting."


	16. Nothing Changed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switches between Serenity and Dean's POV.

The room is cold and damp. Water drips in the background, and there are sounds of small furry creatures roaming the sidelines. I am strapped to a table, naked to the elements save for 7 wide leather straps. One is a chin piece that covers my mouth to muffle my screams, one across my breasts and groin, and one more for each wrist and ankle. My body isn't cold because of the temperature, it's due to blood loss. There are more than a dozen precise incisions across my soft stomach and it's just the beginning. He said he knew how to make it last for weeks, and that I would beg for him to kill me. I have been in his possession for just 5 days.

 

His fingers pull the soft, leather muzzle away from my lips after he makes me promise I won't scream. I nod against his clammy skin. "I don't know where it is, I swear. Please... please stop, you don't have to do this. I'll help you find it. I will. Just please let me go." Hot tears spill down the sides of my face as I try to choke back a sob.

"You think this is only about that stupid trinket?" He barks out a laugh as he tosses his head back. "You silly, stupid little girl. It’s not just about that. I want THEM."

I struggle against his touch as he lowers his face to mine, his lips and breath hot against my ear. "You're just the bait darling. I want the Winchesters and you're going to bring them to me."

"You'll be waiting a long time, they're not coming. They don't deal with scum like you." I spit against his cheek and immediately recoil, expecting to feel the backside of his hand against my face.

Instead, he caresses my jaw line with his fingertips, working his way to my chin where the mood in his hand changes. His fingers are strong, much stronger than my neck, and he forces me to look at him.

His eyes are now black. Black as the darkest night, and then some.

His voice is strained as anger consumes him. "You think you're so smart don't you? You think you know everything. One thing you don't know about the Winchesters is that they would throw themselves willingly into the pit if it meant saving one innocent life. You are all just dumb, useless meat suits waiting for something up on high to come and take you home. Well you know what? You don't get that ending. You are all coming to Hell with ME!"

His thick fingers move the leather strap over my mouth again just as I let out a scream of protest. I start shaking, anger and fear taking hold.

A strange feeling of déjà vu washes over me, and it is unnerving. A few small details have changed, but the rest remains the same to my previous dreams. I can’t help but notice the sun is starting its descent. Only time will tell if the dream from last night will come true as well. I find myself oddly at peace as I send one last prayer up to the Heavens, and before I know it, something pops into my head.

 _Castiel is coming_.

I don't know how I know I will be saved tonight, it's just a very strong feeling I have. The phrase keeps repeating over and over, and I wish I knew where it was coming from. It is a welcome distraction from the pain that Alistair is inflicting upon me. Since I am not wearing my muzzle, I am able to look down on my body, and it’s then that I finally see the damage he has done. There are hundreds of bone deep cuts and chunks of flesh missing. It takes a great deal of effort not to gag.

At one point, while Alistair is cutting into my stomach, I laugh.

He stops mid-incision, and lifts his eyes, they are suddenly black. "What is so funny?"

I hadn't meant for the laugh to be audible, but it ends up bubbling out even more. "I can't say."

In the blink of an eye, he's no longer stooped over my midsection. His bloody hands are in my hair, and with a low throated growl, he pulls my neck at an awkward angle. One firm tug and my neck would be broken. He means for it to hurt, but it doesn't. "What. Is. So. Funny?"

I feel the tip of the blade push into my chin and a small line of blood runs along my jaw. "You. Are going. To die."

Rage like I have never seen before takes control of his features, and without any warning, there is a bright light of pain on the side of my face.

I can't seem to stop laughing as I lick the blood off my mouth, spitting it back in his face. I'm pretty sure I'm losing my mind.

He slaps the strap over my mouth as I continue to laugh, muffling the sound only slightly. He seems unnerved as he continues to carve, especially when I don't give him the pleasure of hearing me scream or cry. Using every last ounce of strength I have, I keep my body plastered against the wood, not letting it react to him anymore.

As the room starts to fill with the colors of the setting sun, I know they will be here soon.

* * *

 

Crowley shows up at 6:30, just in time to see Castiel walking with the three of us, weapons in arms. "Wait just a bloody minute. When did he show up?"

Cas turns his bright, blue eyes to the demon. "I was called down here for assistance."

"So was I! We had a deal, Winchester!" Crowley turns a red-tinted gaze my way.

I shut the trunk, shoving the keys into my coat pocket. "And as far as I'm concerned, we still have a deal, Crowley. We just have a little extra insurance now. Are we ready or is this going to be a problem for you?" A mocking smile spreads across my lips.

"As long as I get what's promised to me, there's no problem."

Sam, Cas, and Bobby start piling into the car after I nod. With hands buried deep in my pockets, I stand in front of Crowley. "I know you probably won't take much stock in this, but I had a really vivid dream last night."

"Busty Asian Beauties?"

Chuckling, I shake my head. "No, unfortunately not. It was more of a vision of how it's going to go down tonight."

"I thought your brother was the one that had the visions."

"He is – was. Serenity had dreams of how today was going to go with Alistair, and for all we know, they've come true. I don't know if it's because of our… connection or what, but Alistair kills us all. And he starts with you."

Crowley laughs deep and loud. "He can't kill me."

"But he does. He has a demon blade, a machete."

In the time it takes me to blink a handful of times, Crowley disappears and reappears.

"That son of a bitch. He nicked it."

" _You_ have a blade? Just how many of these things are there?"

" _Had_ a blade. There are only a handful left. They are bloody hard to destroy, but as you can imagine, demons don't want them lying around for just anyone to get their hands on."

Nodding in agreement, I absentmindedly press my palm against my own blade before climbing into the driver's seat.

Crowley slides into the backseat, making Bobby sit in the middle.

I feel slightly better now that Cas is with us, but things can still go very wrong. Just because we have a plan, doesn't mean things won't fall apart the moment we walk in the front door.

* * *

 

I slow the Impala to a stop outside the property. With my brother riding shotgun, Bobby, Cas, and Crowley are in the backseat, looking like they'd rather be anyplace else. As much as I want to run into the building with guns blazing, I find myself glued against the seat. I wipe my palms against my thighs, trying without success to calm my rapidly beating heart with deep breaths.

With shaking hands, I triple check my gun, making sure the magazine is full of the bullets that have a devil's trap carved into the tips. Sam and Bobby follow suit before stepping out of the car. Cas is armed in his own way, Angel blades hidden in each sleeve of his trench coat. I don't want to park too close since the Impala isn't exactly the stealthiest of vehicles, so I park her ¼ mile off.

 

Without a word, Crowley disappears as planned. He would intercept Alistair as he was finishing with Serenity for the night, buying us some time to get to the cabin.

Even though I’ve checked numerous times for the demon blade at my hip, I check it again. My stomach pitches almost violently as we approach the rambler style building.

There are two doors; one at the back that Crowley will be guarding, and the one in front. We enter the cabin with almost too much ease. With guns drawn, we do a sweep of the front room, making damn sure it's clear. Bobby makes a devil's trap in the entryway after closing the door. If Alistair were to try leaving in his meat suit, he wasn't going to make it out this way.

Cas has a blade in his right hand while scanning the room with wide and all seeing eyes. It's been a while since he's seen battle but I know he can handle himself.

I can feel Sammy at my back each time we enter a room. I make sure the path ahead is clear, while Sam checks the path behind, making sure nothing is hiding out of sight, and Bobby draws a trap in each doorway.

Just as we are about to enter the final room, a high pitched scream pierces the almost silence.

* * *

 

Alistair slides a blade down my forearm, just deep enough to draw a steady stream of blood. I whimper as my skin separates, and the warm blood flows against my skin, into my hand. Day five is coming to an end and the demon hasn't appreciated my inability to cooperate. A noise in the far corner gets my attention. Crowley has appeared and Alistair is anything but pleased.

"I told you no deal, boss." Boss is drenched in sarcasm and disdain.

Crowley stands by my feet, shaking his head. "It didn't have to come to this Alistair."

I watch as my tormentor licks my blood off his fingertips, and it turns my stomach.

"And I'm telling you, it did. I've seen some of the things you've done, Crowley. Why does this bother you so much?"

Disgust plays across Crowley's features. "I'm not completely heartless, you sodding idiot."

Alistair drops the scalpel used to slice my arm, picking up a machete I haven't seen before. Surprise grips me as I see the same sigils on both Dean's and my demon blade.

I try to warn Crowley, but my voice is just about gone from screaming for the past twelve hours. Digging down deep, I give it all I have left and scream.

Alistair moves in a blur of demonic rage, sweeping the machete through the air.

Crowley disappears just as the blade would have sliced his neck wide open. Alistair is more than surprised, as am I.

* * *

 

I’m the first one through the door with Sam, Bobby, and Cas close behind. Crowley is nowhere to be seen, and the look on Alistair's face is priceless, like someone pulled the rug out from under his feet.

Serenity is spread out on the cross shaped table she had described from her nightmares. There are so many cuts on her flesh, and chunks missing, that I have to look away. Finally able to lift my eyes, I train my gun on Alistair.

Noticing that he has visitors, Alistair places the blade against Serenity's throat.

With a quivering chin, she all but chokes on a sob.

Not that I blame her. I know what those hands are capable of. "Let her go Alistair!"

A laugh that borders on maniacal echoes in the almost empty room. "Now why would I want to do that, Winchester?"

The demon and the love of my life are no more than fifteen feet away. I take a risk, and start to slowly move toward the table. "We have what you want, the herb-"

"It's not just the herb I want, Dean. It's you and your brother rotting in Hell where you belong!"

"You and I both know that we ain’t gonna let that happen, Alistair."

There is movement behind Alistair as Crowley reappears with a weapon in his hands. It's not a demon blade, but it will help keep him alive.

A chuckle pours out of Alistair's mouth that sets my teeth on edge. "You have no choice in the matter. I'm going to kill your pretty little girlfriend, skin Bobby alive, gut your brother, drag your souls to Hell, **and** get my hands on that herb, all before your puny little mind registers what I'm doing."

Bobby and Sam spread out behind me, but it does very little to calm my nerves. I have seen Alistair in action more times than I’d like to admit, and I know just how fast the demon can move. With the blade still pressed against Serenity’s neck, I watch her chest rise and fall, but not as fast as it should be, which can only mean one thing. She had been fatally wounded before we stepped in the front door.

Making a split second decision, I pull the trigger. Sam and Bobby’s weapons fire, echoing through the small room.

Alistair moves in a blur. The blade in his hand sweeps across Serenity's throat, and is heading toward Bobby before the arterial spray from Serenity hits the ceiling.

Swearing crudely under his breath, Crowley drops the weapon, and presses his hands against her throat in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.

Sam and I continue to fire our weapons at the blur that is Alistair, making sure there is no friendly fire. Our magazines quickly click empty, forcing us to reload.

Alistair knocks Bobby to the ground with the butt of the machete handle, standing over the hunter like a predator when Cas comes from behind.

He reaches out a hand to smite the demon, but just as he is about to make contact, Alistair whirls around, taking a swing at the Angel. The blade barely misses Cas’ stomach, slicing into the white button down he always wears.

Feeling as if I’m moving in slow motion, I run to the table while Sam raises his newly loaded weapon.

As Bobby takes aim from the floor, Cas grabs Alistair, spinning the demon around. A devil’s trap bullet slams into Alistair’s forehead, stopping him in his tracks.

Alistair tries everything within his power to move, screaming at the top of his lungs when his attempts fail.

* * *

 

Crowley's strong hands are on my neck a fraction of a second after the white hot pain of the blade slices into my skin. My blood sprays out against the ceiling with a sickening _splat,_ sounding like water from a sprinkler. After the initial spray, fear grips me as more blood pours out, feeling like a waterfall against my neck.

His face is full of worry as he stares at me, telling me in his gravel and smoke voice, “it’ll be ok.”

With Dean on the other side of the table, Crowley removes his hands so a plaid shirt can be pressed against the gaping wound. The King of Hell’s hands are back the instant the fabric is against my skin.

Sam’s strong fingers tug on the leather restraints, quickly releasing me before covering my naked form with his jacket.

The three men work awkwardly to get me off the table and into Dean's arms. Darkness starts to eat at my vision, and it’s with weak arms that I grab at his chest. Dean cradles me against him as he sinks to the floor.

Sam kneels by my legs while Crowley continues to hold the soft material against my neck. I can barely hear Bobby and a deeper voiced person argue with my tormenter.

I choke out a small chuckle, blood bubbling between my teeth. "At least I got to see you."

"Shhhhh, Cas is going to heal you. You'll be up and at 'em in no time." With tears in his eyes, Dean brushes the blood matted hair off my forehead.

I shake my head as much as I can. Even though Crowley was able to slow the blood loss, he can't stop it completely. "I'm going to die Dean, but it's ok. I'm ready."

"But I'm not! What about me?" Tears are falling down his cheeks as he chokes on his words.

Lifting my bloody hand to rest against his cheek, tears prick painfully at my eyes. The darkness is coming faster and I feel my heart start to slow as I lose more blood. "I'm sorry, Dean… I – I love you."

He fades away, but not before I hear him say he loves me too, and then… nothing.


	17. Stages of Grief

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switches between Dean and Castiel's POV

With tears in her eyes, her voice shakes when she speaks. Her already ashen face grows paler as more blood is pumped out of her gaping wounds. "I'm sorry, Dean… I – I love you."

My throat is thick, but I manage to choke out that I love her just before her eyes lose all focus, as her hand falls away from my face.

Sam lowers his gaze, brushing away the tears that escape as he clears his throat.

Crowley, standing up, releases the blood soaked shirt. It’s obvious that I’m not worried about our previously made deal at the moment. He presses his hands against his black trench coat, wiping away the still warm blood.

This isn't happening. This has to be another dream. Any second now, I’m going to wake up with Sam's hand on my shoulder. He’ll say that I’m screaming in my sleep or something like that. All I can do is look at her and hold my breath. I expect her to blink, to wrap her arms around my neck, and kiss me hard.

A heavy hand is on my shoulder, giving a small shake.

Gritting my teeth, I try to find my voice. "No. No, no, no! Baby, you can't leave me. CAS!"

The Angel is standing over me in an instant, large, blue eyes taking in the sight of before him. He kneels down next to us, resting a hand against her forehead. Confusion settles in when nothing happens. Closing his eyes, he tries again, a bright white light shining out from his hand.

Nothing.

I stare hard at the Angel. "Why isn't it working?"

"I – I do not know."

Everyone closes their eyes against the bright light that pours out of Cas’ hand as he puts more thought and concentration into it.

"You said you could save her, Cas! You said I would have a choice."

"I should be able to."

"You've healed us before, brought Bobby back from the dead. Why can't you now?"

"I don't know, Dean. I will have to go up and speak with – " the Angel disappears before he can finish his sentence.

The room falls silent except for Bobby. The older man is crying with Sam's large arm around his shoulders.

Crowley clears his throat, cutting through the sounds of mourning. "What do you want to do with Alistair?"

Reaching up, I close Serenity's eyes. It’s unnerving seeing them open and staring into nothing. With the help of Sam and Bobby, I’m able to stand so Ren doesn't fall out of my arms. "We will bring Ren back to her house. Then I’ll come back since he has all the supplies I'll need."

"Supplies for what?"

Anger quickly takes place of my grief, all but swallowing me whole. "To do what I do best, punishment."

"You know I'm all for giving someone what they deserve, Dean, but maybe you should let me handle him."

I shake my head, declining Crowley and his offer. Just as I’m about to verbalize the refusal, there is an odd sound in the far corner.

Mithra steps out of the darkness, and I can’t help but jump back a step. I tighten my arms protectively around Serenity’s limp body at the sight of her. Everyone watches as she takes in the scene before a loud growl explodes from her throat.

Crowley gives a command just as she prepares to lunge at Alistair. Her ears fall flat against her head as she brings her large eyes back to me and Serenity. Seeing that Serenity's hand had fallen down at some point, Mithra crosses the room and places her head under the limp fingers, whining softly.

"Crowley, what the hell is going on?" The back of my neck is tingling. I want to run, but there’s really nowhere to go.

Crowley shrugs and looks just as confused as the rest of us. "It seems Mithra has grown fond of your girl."

There is a constant whine as Mithra nudges at the hand that once showed her kindness. A wide set of copper eyes flick to Alistair and to Crowley.

"She wants to kill him."

Sam steps up beside me slowly so he doesn't spook the massive beast. "Why does Mithra care about Serenity?"

"You got me, mate. I have heard of Hell beasts that grow attached to a human and would kill in order to protect them. I've never seen it in all my years."

Bobby follows Sam. "Dean, maybe we should let the bea- Mitrha take care of Alistair. It will give us time to figure out what is going on with Cas, and how to get Ren back."

Turning to face my brother and father figure, we nod in silent agreement. Although the rage and anger has subsided slightly, I would love nothing more than to feel the life drain out of the demon that killed the woman I love.

My chest grows tight as I look down at Serenity. "If, and only if, Cas can fix her, then you get the herb."

Crowley nods as he motions for Mithra to let them leave.

Sam fishes the keys from my previously discarded jacket. He holds the doors for me while Bobby trails behind. It's not until we are getting into the car that the screams of Alistair can be heard. 

* * *

 

"I don't know Dean. I will have to go up and speak with the boss." Gone are Dean and the dead girl in his arms. Rather than the dark and damp cabin filled with death, I am in a park with greener grass than earthly possible. Children are running around in a sand box, screaming in delight.

Samandriel sits next to me, gazing upon the joyous children. "You defied your orders, Castiel."

"Why have you summoned me here?"

Samandriel turns his gaze away from the children and on to me. "You defied your orders. I thought we had an understanding."

"We did. We do. The Winchesters have been calling for weeks."

"I have heard them. You think you are the only one that hears when they call you?"

"I don't understand."

"We have learned of a way to overhear your calls. It seems that since you met the Winchesters, you have slowly turned your back on us. We cannot rely on you as we once did, and that is not acceptable. You have killed your own kind, and you don't seem sorry. You cannot leave until we have decided-"

"There is a dead girl down there."

"There are thousands of dead girls down there, Castiel. What makes this one so special?"

"Dean thinks –"

Samandriel pinches the bridge of his nose. "I am really tired of hearing about these Winchesters. Dean in particular."

“It is a possibility that they have discovered his soul mate."

The new leader of my garrison throws his head back in laughter. "Soul mates don't exist anymore."

"They are certain of it."

"I don't care if they are certain of it, Castiel. They do not exist. He hasn't created soul mates in over a millennia."

"I understand that, Samandriel. But if you could just see –"

"No! I do not need to see. You are to stay up here until further notice. To leave before then would be to fall." Samandriel is gone on the breeze, leaving me with the laughing children.

I feel no laughter, no joy, no lightheartedness. I only feel the loss that Dean feels, and my own anger at the new management. I should have been able to heal her, to bring her back. My powers have never failed me before.

Sitting on the bench, I watch the children play for hours, working hard to ignore the voices penetrating my mind. The Winchesters are calling. 

* * *

 

The ride is long for being only ten miles.

I am thankful for the darkness that surrounds us as Sam drives, and the lack of traffic. I can’t imagine how it looks, the woman I love - loved covered in blood, and laying across my lap.

The radio is on some small town station, but I don’t hear what they are singing about. I just want to get her home, and wash the blood and dirt off her skin.

With the help of Sam and Bobby, I am able to get out of the car and bring Serenity up into her bathroom. Sam and Bobby don't say anything. I think they know that I’m not sure I’ll be able to control myself if they speak to me right now.

After getting everything ready, I wash her as best I can, doing everything in my power to ignore the missing flesh and muscle. I am… I don’t know **what** I am. Fuck that. I know exactly what I am. I’m angry.

But most of all, I’m sad. Sadder than when my parents died. Sadder than when Sam died. Both times. All the completeness I had started to feel over the last month began to crumble the moment her heart beat its last.

Getting her as clean as possible, I dry her before setting her on the bed, covering her imperfections with a black sheet. Fighting the intense urge to crawl in next to her, I sit in her reading chair, unable to take my eyes off her. Even in death she is beautiful.  

With a shuddering breath, I take her smaller hand in mine. "I actually thought we were going to be together forever. How stupid am I, huh? To think that this life would allow for that. After all we've been through. After all we've lost. Why? Why can't we have what everyone else has? Fuck, I should have come for you sooner. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But… we'll get you back. I promise. I just… I need to figure out what to do. What am I supposed to do?"


	18. A Vision of Hell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switches between Serenity, Dean, Sam, & Bobby’s POV.

Watching from above after my physical eyes have lost all vision, I try screaming and crying out their names, but no one can hear me. I cannot touch anyone or anything. I'm not a ghost, but I haven't passed into Heaven or Hell either. I float above my physical form, following helplessly as the car drives to my home.

I cringe as Dean washes my tortured body and my heart breaks as he speaks by my bedside. I try to move away from the bedroom where Dean has since fallen asleep with his head next to the physical me, but I find that I am unable to be more than a few feet away from him.

Does this have something to do with the soul mate thing? I wish I knew more about this. It would be nice if someone had written a manual. I have… had thousands of books at my disposal, and for all I know, one could have a remedy for this mess.

Dean said Cas could fix me and I know that the Angel has brought people back from the dead before. I remember warmth spreading all over when I watched him try to bring me back, there was a tugging in the pit of my stomach, but nothing happened. I remained intangible.

Maybe Dean is right. Maybe we don't get the happy ending. Maybe we are destined to be alone… or dead.

Deep down, I don't really believe that. I believe that we'll get through this and that I will be made whole again.

I manage to settle down on the bed next to Dean's hand. I reach out, sighing when my hand flows through his. I don't really know what to expected to happen. I'm not alive anymore. I can't crawl into his lap and cry against his chest while he holds me, tells me that everything is going to be ok. I can't lift my face to his and feel his full lips against mine. I can't have him right now and it drives me crazy.

"It's not fair! You can't lead us to each other and then rip us apart. What kind of God are you?! Why would you be this cruel?"

Surprisingly, I feel hot tears against my cheeks. I have seen ghosts and spirits cry, but I'm not either of those that I know of. Yes, I'm attached to Dean, but I was accepting of my death. I died in a horrific way, but I don't want revenge. Alistair is a demon whose trade is to torture, he did what he knew to do.

Castiel, the Angel that raised Dean from Hell had tried raising me, but he was unsuccessful. Why? Is there some conspiracy happening in Heaven? Do they have something against the Winchesters? Nothing surprises me anymore, especially when it comes to the Angels.

Bobby had caught me up on everything that happened over the past few years with them, and I remember being so angry. Angels were controlling and manipulating the human race in order to get their way. This is not the way I was raised. I believed Angels to be kind and peaceful creatures, not manipulative warmongers.

I remember sensing that something was different about Cas. He loves the Winchesters, and he would die for them. Heaven hates him for that. But why? Why would they hate someone for doing their job? Isn’t it their job to love and protect the human race?

* * *

 

After grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge, I sit across the table from Sam, neither of us drink or talk. We don’t really have anything to say at this point. My mind is still reeling. I believed that we were going to save her. That even though she was being tortured, Cas would have restored her.

Pulling at the beer label, I remember watching Alistair slit her throat. I tried to run over to the table, to stop the bleeding, but I was knocked to the floor before I could even blink. As Alistair stood tall over me, I reveled putting a bullet in his forehead.

It wasn't until Cas turned to Dean that I realized she was dead. It felt like the floor disappeared beneath my feet as my knees buckled. The room shifted, and I would have fallen if Sam hadn’t been there to catch me.

When Cas wasn't able to revive her, I was so angry it made my blood boil. The anger was washed quickly away by tears that took me by surprise, but I wasn’t ashamed of the tears I spilt.

Now Dean is upstairs mourning the loss of his soul mate.

I remember Martha telling a young Serenity about soul mates, and all I could do was laugh. I truly didn’t believe they existed. Yes, I had been head over heels in love with Karen, and those feelings continued for many years after I was forced to kill her. But soul mates? I always had my doubts. The world is such a dark place, full of so many dark creatures, death and destruction. How could there be something so bright, so… pure?

* * *

 

Clearing my throat, I gain Bobby’s attention. "What if Cas can't get her back?"

Bobby just shrugs and shakes his head. "I don't know, boy. I don't want to think about that right now."

"I… I hate to be a downer, but I think we should. I have never seen that happen to Cas before."

"I know Sam, it's new in my book too. And him disappearing like that? Something's going on up there and I don't like the smell of it."

"I'm worried about Dean, Bobby."

"I am too, son."

I have seen my brother go from one woman to the next over the years. I watched as he mourned the loss of Jo and wondered what could have happened. I watched him try to settle down with Lisa and her son, Ben.

Did Dean love Jo and Lisa? Yes. But Dean was never _in_ love with either of them. I knew that Dean liked the idea of a family, settling down, and raising a couple of kids. But Jo and Lisa weren’t… right for my brother.

It wasn't until I watched Serenity die tonight that I knew my brother was head over heels in love. What if we wouldn't be able to bring her back? Would Dean let them burn her body in a hunter's funeral? How long would Dean wait for Cas before giving up? Her body isn't going to last forever.

Pushing away from the table, I head out the back door, making my way to the iron perimeter.

"Cas, I know that you and Dean share this profound bond, but I hope you can hear me, and I hope that whatever is going on up there can be put aside for this. Losing her will kill him, I know it will. Do whatever you can to get down here and help him, please. I'll lose him again if she can't be saved."

Turning my head to watch the stars, I wait for Cas, not completely surprised when he doesn’t show. I have a really bad feeling that something is very, _very_ wrong upstairs. 

* * *

 

"Bobby, isn't there some sort of Angel summoning ritual?"

"Do you think that's a good idea? Even if there is and we get him here, how do we know he can heal her?"

I drop into the chair, huffing loudly. "Yeah, you're right."

"Are we sure he was fully juiced? He's been gone an awful long time."

"I don't know, Bobby. I'll tell you this, Cas is different."

"Well yeah, he's an Angel."

"Besides that. He hasn't always been forthcoming with information, but he's even more guarded now. Not just that he's obeying orders, but that he can't tell us. Something doesn't feel right."

"I got that feeling, too."

"What are we gonna do, Bobby?"

* * *

 

_With Serenity at my side, I lay in the tall grass, caressing her fingers with mine before pressing our palms together. When she laughs, I turn, watching the joy and happiness play over her features. Her laughter is contagious and before I know it, my laugh echoes hers._

_A breeze from the south pushes the orange and pink leaves off their trees and they look like they're dancing in the air. One in particular lands on Serenity. As I go to pick it off, I’m startled by her stomach._

 

_"What's the matter, babe?"_

 

_With a shaking hand, I pluck the leaf off. "I – I'm not sure."_

 

_"Dean, the leaf isn't going to kill the baby."_

 

_"B-b-baby?"_

 

_Serenity sits up on her elbows. It proves to be an effort as she is much larger than the last time I remember seeing her. "Yes, the baby. Your baby."_

_Confusion clogs my throat as I try to remember any time before just a few moments ago, but there’s… nothing. "I don't remember anything."_

 

_Serenity sits up slowly, mirroring me. Her smaller hands are on mine, and there's a sudden chill in the air. "I know you don't and that's ok. You don't have to remember anything, Dean. We can go from here, you, me, and the baby. Just stay here with me. You'll love it here, I promise."_

_This isn't right. I manage to look away from her hypnotic gaze to take in our surroundings. The grass is tall, it would reach my knees if I were to stand, and we are amidst hundreds of large oaks. The iron perimeter all but glows in the sun. The damage all but screaming at me._

_My eyes flick to the house. It looks the same, but at the same time, it doesn’t. It’s not anything that sticks out like a sore thumb, but I know something isn’t right. Like I’m looking at it, but I’m not seeing the whole picture._

_"Sweetie, it's ok. It's just a house."_

 

_The sudden urge to rip my hand from hers is almost overwhelming. "No, there's something wrong about it. Can't you see it?"_

_She doesn't even look at the house. "I do see it, Dean, and it's beautiful."_

 

_Something isn't just wrong with the house, something is wrong with her. She is trying too hard to make me see something I don’t want to see. Doubt has taken hold and suddenly images assault my brain._

_Serenity is lying on a table, naked and bleeding._

 

_Alistair is holding a blade against her paling skin and there's blood in the air._

 

_She is in my arms, professing her love to me, and then she is dying._

_I stumble back, away from the imposter in front of me. "What is this?"_

_"This, my stubborn lover, could be your life. You wanted me. You wanted a child."_

_"You are not Serenity." My voice is cold and harsh as I spit the words at her._

_"Dean, Dean, Dean. You have never been able to look a gift horse in the mouth. We are giving you want you want. The woman you love can be alive, you can have children, you can have a future with her."_

_"What do you want in return? Nothing is ever free."_

 

_"You're the one that made the deal with us. Don't you remember?"_

 

_"I – I remember her dying."_

_"Yes, the original Serenity is dead and you gave her a beautiful hunter's funeral one week after Alistair slaughtered her."_

 

_"Then what is this?" With a roar of blood in my ears, pain explodes behind my eyes. The pressure is so intense it feels like my brain is trying to push out through my forehead._

_"Your memories were taken as part of the deal. She couldn't be raised. Not by Cas, not by me." There is a slight shift in the energy around the_ thing _in front of me. The physical image of Serenity disappears, and changes into a lovely looking young woman with red eyes._

_Our surroundings change in a shimmer, and it’s then I realize where we are; a crossroad._

_"I wouldn't make a deal with you."_

 

 _"But you did Dean. The night you burned your precious soul mate you came crying to me, to this very spot, and made me a_ hell _of an offer."_

 

_"W-what could I have to offer? You've said you wouldn't make a deal with the Winchesters anymore, that we were to be untouched."_

 

_"New management, new rules darling."_

 

_"New management? What happened to Crowley?" My knees hit the dirt as a scene of Crowley being sliced in half with the demon machete blows into my mind. "No."_

_"Yes. You slaughtered Crowley. He got tired of waiting for her to be raised from the dead, for you to give him the herb you promised. He came for it and the three of you fought him to the death."_

_"You still haven't told me what I offered you."_

 

_"Are you sure you want to know? You look like you've seen too much already."_

 

_"Tell me what I did."_

_"The night you burned her, you came here and summoned me, begging for her to be saved. It was actually quite pitiful. You didn't care if it was her body, but you wanted her soul back on earth. Your precious Angel couldn't do it, and try as I might, I couldn't get her soul back from above. I did the one thing I could. I offered you… me. I would take on her form. Everything that she was, I would become. I had approval from below. It's amazing how fast a new King is crowned when one falls. You agreed, but you didn't want to remember anything. Not that you met her, not how she died, and not how you got to this crossroad."_

_I swallowed the bile in my throat with a groan. "What was the payment?"_

_"Sam, Bobby, and fifty years with her… well, me."_

_"No… I wouldn't."_

 

_"You would, honey, and you did. The souls of Sam Winchester and Bobby Singer are hanging on a rack right now while you have fifty years of happiness waiting for you."_

 

_She reaches out to touch my forehead, and when she does, the memories of the deal are on me like waves crashing on the shore._

_Doubling over, I vomit on the gravel. How could I do this to my family? It’s a tick of some kind, it has to be. Sam and Bobby are at Singer’s Auto, and I… I traded my family’s souls._

_"I… but… if you erased my memory, how did I even notice anything was wrong?"_

_"You're a Winchester, honey. You're more stubborn than a mule, and you have instincts that make other hunters jealous."_

 

_"What now?"_

 

_She shrugs slowly. "We can do one of two things. You and I can go back to where we were a few minutes ago after I wipe your memory again or I can take you to Hell fifty years early. It's your call."_

 

_"I want Sam, and Bobby back."_

 

_"I'm sorry, but a deal has been made and you know the rules, it can't be broken."_

 

_Looking into her large, red eyes, I clench my jaw before speaking. "Take me to Hell."_

I sit up with a gasp that makes my lungs scream. It takes a few moments before I get my ragged breathing under control as every detail of the dream plays on a loop. This dream feels exactly like the other one that predicted Serenity’s death.

Pressing a kiss to the back of her hand, the hairs on the back of my neck stand. My instincts kick in, so I blow out a breath, but there’s no change in the temperature.

I stand slowly and turn in a circle, taking in everything about the room, looking for something… anything that stands out. With a resigned shrug, I run out of the room, down the stairs, and into the kitchen "We have seven days or we all go to Hell."

* * *

 

"You're going to trade our souls so you can spend the next fifty years with some demon look alike?" Bobby leans against the counter behind him, crossing his arms.

"No. That's the thing, I wouldn't ever do that. Soul mate or not, I wouldn't trade my family. The whole dream felt… wrong. But the part about us going to Hell, that's the truth. I don't know how, but it's going to happen."

"How is it you're even having these dreams?" I feel Sam’s eyes on me as I pace back and forth.

"I don't know. I didn't even start having them until after we got here and… maybe being a soul mate means more than being hopelessly in love and doing anything to protect each other. Maybe there's a psychic connection, too. She had those dreams and then I started after meeting her. I mean… maybe she does have a bit of the sight. Maybe I'm feeling the side effects of her ability?"

"Ok, but she's dead. If you are... were connected in that way, then how is the connection still active?"

I shake my head before leaning against the counter next to Bobby.

With a hand to my face, something brushes through the hair on my crown. I whirl around and check the window above the sink, but it’s closed. There’s no curtains hanging, so even if the window was open, nothing could have touched me.

"You ok, Dean?"

"I – I'm not sure. After I woke up I thought I felt something in the room with me, and just now it felt like something touched the back of my head."

Bobby reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out an EMF detector. Switching it on, he stands in front of me. The detector makes no indication that I’m haunted. "Just how much sleep have you had?"

I know I look more than the average tired. Hell, I feel like I could lie down and not wake up for a week. "I don't know anymore. I'm fine though, I'll sleep when this is over."


	19. Talking With the Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Switches between Serenity, Dean, & Bobby’s POV.

_DEAN_

After Bobby tells us goodnight, Sam comes at me with an idea. "Dean, I was thinking of summoning Cas. _If_ we could find a spell."

"No. I don't think we can count on him right now. He couldn't raise her after she died, what makes you think he'll be able to do it after a summoning?"

"Well I don't know what else to do, Dean. You have a dream about trading our souls as payment, Cas can't bring her back, and I highly doubt Crowley knows how to –"

"Her soul is unreachable, even to them. That's what the demon in my dream said."

"So her soul is unreachable to them _and_ Cas failed. Where do you want to go from here?"

I honestly have no idea, and just as I am about to tell him that, I feel the hair on the top of my head move as if someone brushed their fingers through it. "Get a Ouija board. I don't think she's gone."

* * *

 

_BOBBY_

Walking down the hall, I approach Serenity’s bedroom slowly. My hands are shaking as I push open the door, and there, on the bed, lies Serenity. Her skin is so pale against the darkness of the sheet and the fire red engine hair that is still wet hangs over the edge. If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was sleeping.

Dropping to the chair, I grab her cold hand, and rub it on instinct. I wasn’t expecting the large lump to form in my throat, damn near choking me.  "I swore I’d protect you, no matter what. I'm not supposed to bury you, it should be the other way around. Ah Ren, I'm sorry. If I could have switched places with you, I would have done it in a heartbeat. We are gonna try and get Cas back down here… maybe his powers weren't enough. He said that God could return you if Dean wanted it, and honey, he wants you so bad. Not to sound jealous or anything, but I need you too. You gotta fight. Fight your way back from wherever it is you are and come back to us. I won't let them keep you."

* * *

 

_SERENITY_

I watch by Dean's side as the two of them get my front sitting room Ouija board ready. Couches and table are pushed to the side, and the fireplace is lit. Once Sam has the board arranged in the middle of the floor, they each take their place with fingers on the planchette.

In Sam's right hand is a pen and a notepad. "I think you should ask the questions, Dean."

"It's not like she won't answer you."

"No, but I'm not the one she was destined to be with. You ask, I'll write down the answers."

Dean rolls his eyes at Sam, and I can't help but laugh. I sit next to Dean, my tangible knee inside his corporeal one, and it tingles, warm, pulsing, and electric.

I place my fingers on the planchette and focus on moving it as questions are asked.

"Serenity, are you here with us?"

_Yes._

Dean and Sam have matching expressions, eyes wide and mouths open. "But the EMF detector didn't go off."

_No._

"You're not a ghost?"

_No._

"Are you attached to something?"

_Yes. You._

"Was that you in the kitchen, did you touch me?"

_Yes._

"Why can't we see you?"

_I don't know._

"Can we hear you?"

_No._

"Do you know how we can get you back?"

_No._

"Damn ii! What are we supposed to do?"

_I don't know. One week._

"One week? My dream?"

_Yes._

"Did you see it too."

_Yes._

"Are there any books here that might help?"

_Maybe. Cas is too weak. Maybe more Angels._

"Probably, since apparently God can't come out and help us right now. Is there anything around you? Light or dark?"

_No. You, house, Sam, Bobby. I am tied to you._

"Are you… are you hurt?"

_No, tired._

"We were thinking of summoning Cas, and now possibly a few more for extra juice. Do you know if there's a spell for that?"

_Yes. Book in office. Old black Latin. Tired._

I take my hands off the planchette and fight off a wave of dizziness. That was harder than I thought it was going to be.

Sam has leapt off the floor and is rummaging around in the study for the book.

Dean's fingers slide off the planchette and he does a double take at the office to make sure Sam isn't running right back.

"We'll save you Ren, I promise. I love you."

I take what little concentration I have left and move the marker.

_Luv u 2._

With a press of my lips against his, I feel myself slipping away slowly. I'm not afraid. I'm not going anywhere. I'm just tired and need some rest.

* * *

 

_DEAN_

A cool breeze brushes against my lips, and I know that she had kissed me. That is enough to stoke the fire of fight I once had. She wasn't gone like I thought she would be. I had envisioned her in her kind of Heaven, sitting on a beach with a margarita in her hand, and her toes in the sand. Never did I think that she would be down here with me, tied to me, as she said.

After cleaning up the living room, I run the Ouija board into the basement, where a loud pounding is coming from the panic room. Shit! I had forgotten all about Luke.

Luke was using his powers to throw the cot against the thick, salt-soaked, iron walls of the panic room. "I know you guys are out there. LET ME OUT!" The bed is picked up and thrown, picked up and thrown until the frame is close to unrecognizable.

I knock on the door, but don’t open the peephole. If that's opened, Luke will be able to use his powers. "Luke, calm down alright."

"Like hell I'm gonna calm down!"

"You either calm down or we're gonna leave you in there."

"Yeah right! Ren won't let you do that."

"Well, we uh… there's a problem with that."

Luke stops the bed just as it's about to hit the door. It lands with a deafening clang "What?"

"She uh, Alistair slit her throat and we couldn't stop the bleeding."

Luke tries to talk, but he can’t seem to find his voice. "You son of a bitch! You promised!"

"I know I did, man, but we can get her back. We're working on a way to get her back."

"She's dead Dean, you don't come back from that."

I can’t stop the small chuckle that comes. "You'd think that wouldn't you? Trust me, I have firsthand knowledge. It can happen. Now, I don't want to keep you down here. What do you say I open this door and you head home, hm?"

"What about Alistair?"

"He's dead Luke. Crowley had his Hell beast kill him."

Luke’s voice is low, menacing sounding. "Leave me alone Dean."

"Look, I'm sorry about Ren. We tried, but it wasn't enough."

"Maybe locking me in here is a good idea right now."

"What do you mean?" Luke's words have piqued my interest and I fight the urge to open the peephole. There's something different in the air and it sets my teeth on edge. "What are you doing?"

"I – I don't know, I can't stop it. I'm so… angry."

"Just breathe! Try and relax. I know how much it hurts losing her, man, but you gotta get control of yourself. It won't end well if you don't."

"W-when you get her back, tell her I'm sorry."

"LUKE! Don't do this!"

Luke closes his eyes as his head falls back. With arms held out, palms up, he lets out a shuddering breath. The air around him shifts, shimmering in the dim orange glow of the overhead lights. With one final inhale of breath, he lets go of everything, and it sends a crackle of electricity through the air.

Just as the walls start to bend and buckle, I jump back, barely getting out of the way as the door flies off, missing my shoulder by inches.

Sam pounds down the stairs mere seconds after the explosion. There is dust everywhere and the brothers start to cough as they breathe it in. "Dean! What happened?"

"I – I don't know. I told him about Ren, and he said he was getting so angry. I could feel it in the air, his power; it felt like static was everywhere. He told me to leave him, but I tried to calm him down. And then it just exploded." I point to the door that’s lying on the other side of the room.

Sam grabs a flashlight and walks into the panic room. I follow him, expecting to step in blood or have it drop down from the ceiling, but there’s nothing. The cot is crumpled in the far corner and on the floor are blast marks where Luke had been standing. The damage to the ceiling is minimal, there's no hole or anything where a body would have gone flying through. It's like he disappeared.

Bobby stumbles down the stairs next. "What in the blue blazes is going on down here?"

We share a confused look, shrugging at the same time.

"Luke… he's gone,” is the only answer Sam can give.


	20. Walking Through Heaven

Castiel is walking around the Heaven of his favorite soul: a Tuesday afternoon of an autistic man that drowned in a bathtub. It's so peaceful here, more peaceful than any other Heaven he has found. The autistic man is flying a red kite, there is a slight breeze that moves the kite up and down through the sky.

The kite dips, coming so very close to hitting the man in the head, and he lets out a squeal of surprise mixed with enjoyment. It's music to Castiel's ears.

 

He wants nothing more than to go back down to Earth and help Dean by resurrecting Serenity, but Samandriel has instructed him not to. He would be considered fallen if he were to disobey direct orders again.

 

It's ridiculous! He was given orders to watch over and protect the Winchesters, and then he's reprimanded for doing so.

 

Sure, he killed his own kind, but he was deeply and truly sorry for that. He wasn't sure how much more penance he would have to serve. And to consider himself fallen if he were to disobey? That seems a little over the top, even to Castiel. He briefly wonders if the newly assigned power was going to Samandriel's head as it were.

 

Castiel stops walking when a form suddenly appears lying in the grass no more than 15 feet in front of him. Caution takes hold of him and there's an angel blade in his hand, just in case. The Angel peers over his shoulder, but the autistic man doesn't notice anything, he continues to fly his bright red kite.

 

The Angel moves slowly toward the body that appeared out of thin air. Her bright red hair spread out on the grass like water, and wrapped in a pitch black sheet, clinging to her slender form like a silk dress. Her features are oddly familiar and Castiel tries to remember where he has seen her before.

 

It's not until she starts stirring that he remembers, it's Serenity. He sheaths the Angel blade and kneels down next to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. Her eyes pop open and are momentarily blinded by the bright and overpowering sun. Castiel is struck at just how blue they really are.

 

She starts to struggle against his grip, "Serenity, it's Castiel, you're alright."

 

"What? Where am I? Where's Dean?" Panic has taken hold of her voice as her eyes scan the open field.

 

"You're in the Heaven of an autistic man, one that I quite enjoy." He moves back, giving her ample room to sit up.

 

"I don't understand. I was just with Dean."

 

"I'm sorry, but you died."

 

"I know that Cas, I meant afterwards."

 

"I don't understand." He watches as she stands, assisting her when her legs get caught in the silky material.

 

"I found myself unable to leave Dean's side, even after my death. I was able to communicate with them if I thought about it hard enough, focusing on Dean and our connection. He and Sam pulled out my Ouija board and I guess I did too much. I got so tired that I felt myself float away. But why would I end up here?"

 

Castiel shrugs in response. "That I do not know either. We should speak with Samandriel."

 

"Samandriel, is he your boss?"

 

"I guess you could call him that. God seems to be on another sabbatical."

 

"Dean said you could have brought me back. I felt you try but nothing happened. How come?"

 

"It is a long story, Serenity, one I do not wish to speak of again. Let me just say that I cannot leave Heaven again until I have the proper clearance."

 

He notices Serenity react and she seems nervous. "What would happen if you were to leave?"

 

"I would be considered fallen. I would lose my wings, my Grace, my powers. I would be cast out of Heaven and I would become a mortal."

 

"Well, let's say you were summoned out of Heaven…"

 

Castiel narrows his eyes at the human soul. "What are you saying Serenity? How can a human summon an Angel?"

 

Her hands come up in defense before crossing against her stomach. "It's not that different than summoning a demon. They want to summon you to fix me, to bring me back to Dean. I have a book that was passed down that contains an Angel summoning ritual."

 

Castiel runs his hand over his face as a groan escapes. "Samandriel will see no difference. If I am summoned, I am still disobeying a direct order and I will be cast down."

 

"Can I see Samandriel? Maybe I can explain it to him."

 

"He doesn't believe you are soul mates. God stopped creating them a long time ago. How your souls managed to come from one is not known to us."

 

"Bring me to Samandriel." Her tone is authoritative and demanding. She places her hands on her hips and Castiel cannot help but smile.

 

He reaches out for her hand and before they blink out of the Heaven of a Tuesday morning, Castiel turns to Serenity. "Dean is going to have his hands full with you."

 

****

Samandriel feels before he hears Castiel enter his office. His eyes are glued to the paperwork on his desk. He was the leader of a garrison and his boss had him pushing papers. "Not now Castiel, I'm busy."

 

"Not too busy for this. We have a guest."

 

"What do you mean, we have a guest?" Samandriel lifts his eyes from his desk and is struck speechless.

 

Once a soul enters Heaven, they are the purest and most beautiful form of their previous physical being. This woman is certainly no different. Her hair is so bright and so red, it appears she has flames falling down her back. Her skin looks like the whitest shade of alabaster he has ever seen, the dark shade of black gives off the impression that her skin glows and her eyes… Have you ever seen the bluest ocean from above and you could see everything underneath? That is the best way to describe them. They put Cas's to shame.

 

She holds her hand out to Samandriel. "Nice to meet you Samandriel. My name is Serenity Hatfield and I am the soul mate of Dean Winchester. It appears we need to talk."

 

His eyes dart from the woman to Castiel, and he can't help but notice the smirk that is pulling at Castiel's lips. He motions at the chairs and the pair sit down across from his desk.

 

"Forgive me, but you are mistaken about being a soul mate. They do not exist for He has not created any in eons. Humans are so gullible and naive these days. Just because you were deeply in love with another, does not mean that you are soul mates." He tries to keep the condescension out of his voice but fails.

 

Her face is like stone as she watches him. "That's what Sam said, too. Now Dean, he knew something was different from the second we touched; it was like we had been struck by lightning."

 

Samandriel shrugs. "What's your point, Serenity? That can be explained easily. Static electricity."

 

"Explain to me how I am attached to him."

 

"You're a ghost Serenity, ghosts get attached to people and objects."

 

"If I'm a ghost, how am I here in Heaven?" Her perfectly shaped eyebrow arches as she stares with wide eyes at the leader of Castiel. He hasn't said much and that bothers Samandriel.

 

"Castiel, what do you have to say about this?"

 

"I believe them. You did not see when she died, and she has a point. How is she here in Heaven if she is a ghost and attached to Dean?"

 

Samandriel just shakes his head. He doesn't want to believe that soul mates are in existence. They were a pain in the butt all those years ago and the Angels had thought there were no more. Now there is a soul in his office that is trying to prove him otherwise.

 

"Samandriel, why are you so scared to believe me? Why won't you let Castiel return to Earth and resurrect me?" There is pleading in her voice as she leans closer to the desk.

 

"Castiel has rebelled."

 

"I was under the impression that he was to protect the Winchesters, at all costs."

 

"Yes, but he killed hundreds of his own –"

 

"So how long are you going to punish him?"

 

"Until I get the order that Castiel has served his time."

 

"Here I thought you all believed in forgiveness."

 

"We do but –"

 

"But nothing, Samandriel. Who is your boss, is it God?"

 

Samandriel shakes his head. "Yes and no."

 

"This is a yes or no question, not both."

 

"Yes."

 

"Where is He?"

 

Samandriel shrugs as he fidgets in his chair. "He doesn't want to be disturbed."

 

"Even for something like this?"

 

"I was given orders not to bother Him."

 

"This is important, Samandriel. I have died and I shouldn't have. My family has something powerful enough that will bring Hell on Earth and Dean has offered it up to Crowley. The deal should have been broken since I died in the exchange, but if there's anything that Dean is, it's honest. I don't know what, but something is going to happen between Crowley, Sam, Dean, and Bobby, and they are all going to die. Do you want three of your most valued fighters leaving the fight in the middle of the game?"

 

Samandriel is unnerved by her forwardness and he starts to realize that yes, maybe they are soul mates but he still wants to know why. Why are there soul mates out there now? Is there something bigger going on, is there going to be another apocalypse?

 

"I – I can't release Castiel from his order."

 

Serenity is out of her chair faster than Samandriel can blink. One hand is spread on his desk while the other one is pointing a very long finger at his face. If he thought her hair was like fire before, he was wrong. He swears he can see it start to flicker like the excited embers of a fire.

 

"Now listen to me you sniveling little waste of Angel wings. You get your ass out there and you tell God what is going on out here. You are refusing to release the Angel that can save my life, that can save the lives of millions and you won't do it because you don't have a pair! You better do it fast because my boys are working on a summoning ritual that will rip Castiel out of Heaven and render him mortal. You got me?"

 

The Angel risks a glance at Castiel, and all he does is wink a bright blue eye. Samandriel nods and disappears fast enough it pushes Serenity's hair in the breeze from his wings.

 

Serenity places the other hand on the table as her head falls forward, her face hidden behind a red curtain of hair.

 

Castiel is by her side in an instant, a strong hand on her back just as she pitches back. A shock wave rips through Heaven.

 

Castiel catches Serenity in his arms, kneeling down so she can rest on the floor. "Serenity, are you alright?"

 

"I don't know. I feel… weird."

 

"Tell Dean that I'll save you."

 

"I know you will Cas."

 

Serenity disappears from his arms. Much like when she first appeared, it is abrupt. One second she is there and the next she isn't. Castiel meant what he said, he would save her.

 

He will do whatever it takes and it doesn't matter if he has to defy God himself. He has a feeling that there is more to this soul mate thing than anyone is letting on, and if God is the one that created this one soul, He wouldn't let them be kept apart.


	21. A Meeting With the King

"What do you mean he's gone?"

Sam helps Dean off the floor while massive clouds of dust slowly take over the basement.

Sam tells Bobby what Dean had just told him and what they found in the panic room. "There's no body, no remains, no blood; nothing. It's as if he just disappeared with the release of his power."

The three head up into the kitchen as their lungs work to expel the dust they inhaled, Dean winds up coughing the most. Sam hands him a bottle of water and watches as his older brother drains the clear liquid.

"Damn, that was crazy."

Grabbing a towel, Sam runs it under warm water before handing it to his brother as his face is covered in dirt from the explosion. "Silver lining? At least we don't have to worry about Luke anymore." Sam chuckles softly, albeit it awkwardly, but Dean gives a soft chuckle as well.

"Yeah, but the panic room is ruined and it's not going to be easy to fix."

Bobby is about to say something when they hear a noise from the room they just evacuated. The sound reaches Dean's ears and he's on his feet like a cat on the prowl. He has his gun drawn before his feet touch the top step.

Sam and Bobby mirror his actions and follow him slowly down the stairs. The dust is slowly starting to settle in the pink and purple rays streaming in the small windows from the sunrise.

The noise turns out to be someone coughing not five feet from where Dean had landed. All three men slowly lower their weapons and look at each other with large eyes as they register who is standing in front of them.

* * *

 

_SERENITY_

The blast of power shakes me to my core and I fall back against Castiel's arms.

He slowly lowers me to the floor of the office. "Serenity, are you alright?" His voice is gravelly and etched with concern as his eyes bore into mine.

"I don't know. I feel… weird."

"Tell Dean that I'll save you."

"I know you will Cas."

The office and the Angel don't fade away as you would think, they just disappear. One second I'm in Heaven and the next I'm lying on the floor of my basement surrounded by dust. My lungs constrict and work to rid the minuscule intruders. I hear voices and footsteps as people move away. I go to call out, to let them know that I'm here, but I remember that I'm dead and they can't hear me.

I cough harder as I stand on shaky legs, wiping my dirty hands on the fabric clinging to my frame. I'm about to head upstairs when I realize that Dean isn't near me like he should be and suddenly there are three men standing before me with their guns drawn.

I raise my hands in defense and can't stop the smile spreading across my face when I realize that they can see me. "Hiya!"

Dean drags his eyes up my body until they meet mine, they're full of disbelief and shock. "But… you…"

Sam is up the stairs and I hear his large feet pound through the house, up to my bedroom. I know he's checking for my body. I would if I were in his shoes. It doesn't take long before Sam is practically jumping down the stairs. "Her body is still up there."

Dean narrows his eyes. "What are you?"

I leave my hands in the air as my lungs continue to work out the dust and dirt. "I'm human, Dean. I'm dead, but that doesn't make me any less human."

"Your body is upstairs. Sam and I just got done talking to you on the Ouija board, and suddenly you're… corporeal?"

"Can we please go upstairs and we can figure it out?"

The three men nod at me and wait until I make the first move. I slowly lower my hands to grab the black satin sheet, the last thing I want is to trip up the stairs. Once in the kitchen, I fill a glass with water and drink it, quickly.

The three men don't sit down when I do. Rather, they stand across from me. Dean still has his gun pulled and aimed at me. Sam leans back against the wall while Bobby stands in the doorway, arms crossed against his chest.

"So, I went to Heaven."

"What do you mean you went to Heaven? I thought you were bound to Dean." Sam looks at me with doubt smeared across his face.

I shrug because I honestly have no idea what is going on. "I was so tired after our conversation that I felt myself drifting… being pulled away. I woke up in Heaven and Cas was there."

Dean starts to loosen his aim, but doesn't lower the gun completely. I don't blame him. "You saw Cas?"

"Yeah and I got to meet his boss, Samandriel. What a little punk he is."

"Well is Cas going to come down?"

"He can't, Dean. Samandriel has him on strict orders that he can't leave Heaven. He'll be fallen if he leaves, even if you summon him. Samandriel will see it as another rebellion. He’ll rip out Cas’s Grace and banish him from Heaven. He'll be powerless, a mortal."

The love of my life sits down across from me and I feel my hands itch to reach out to him, but I don't. He doesn't trust that I'm not evil or that I'm even me for that matter. We are all still coughing, Dean and me more than the others.

"By the way, what happened to my panic room?"

The three men exchange looks and it's evident they're not sure what they want to tell me.

Bobby relaxes and moves to sit down next to Dean. "It was Luke."

"You had Luke locked up in the panic room? What on earth for?"

"After Luke had taken you, he brought you to Alistair in exchange for his family. The boys found his cabin and it turns out that Luke had… power."

"Power, what kind of power?"

"He's like I used to be, he could move things with his mind. The angrier he got, the stronger he became. We told him what Alistair was doing, what he would do to you and he got so angry. He was going to come and 'save you' as he put it. Alistair would have ripped him apart in seconds. We did what we thought was best, put a tranq dart in him and brought him here. The panic room prevented him from using his powers beyond the walls."

I can't believe what they're telling me, that Luke had the ability to move things with his mind. "Sam, you said Luke was like you. You can do all that too?"

Sam shakes his head as he pushes away from the wall, his long fingers brush through his dark brown hair. "I could before, but not anymore. It's been a few years." He seems completely unwilling to give me any more information than that and I find myself wanting to dig it out of him.

I turn my attention back to Dean. "Ok, so you had him locked in the panic room for protection. What happened?"

His large eyes look deep into mine and I find it incredibly hard to breath. "I told him that you were dead. His power devoured him whole and ripped the room apart at the seams."

"How long after we talked did you tell Luke?"

"Maybe 10 minutes, why?"

I push away from the table and start pacing, hardly noticing that Dean has his gun trained on me again. "After I threatened Samandriel, a shock wave ripped through Heaven, knocking me off my feet and then I was downstairs. I hadn't been up there more than 10 minutes."

"You think that his power brought you back?"

"It's the best theory I have to work with right now. My concern is if it was felt in Heaven then it could have been felt in Hell. Didn't you tell Crowley that when I was brought back you would honor your end of the deal?"

"How did you know that?"

"I told you, Dean, I was attached to you from the moment I died. I didn't see a bright light, I didn't pass through a long tunnel, and I didn't have my life flash before my eyes. One minute I was dying in your arms, saying I love you, and the next I was floating. I could hear everything that was said."

His gun wavers, but he doesn't put it down. I take a risk and walk around the table to stand in front of him. I rest my hands on the barrel of his gun, trying to push it out of the way. "I'm not anything evil, Dean. I'm the same girl that you fell in love with I'm just… dead."

"No, you're not the same girl. She is upstairs, tortured and torn apart."

"I know, I felt every incision and every time he removed another part of my body. I don't know why I am the way I am, but it doesn't make me any less of who I was before."

Dean just shakes his head, a deep sadness takes hold of his eyes. "This isn't right."

"I know it's not right, but can't you just be happy that you can see and hear me now?" I reach out to touch his face but he flinches as if I had slapped him.

"Don't."

Tears spring to my eyes as he pulls away from my touch. I suddenly feel ridiculous wearing the sheet. "Um Cas said that he would find a way to save me before I disappeared, he wanted me to tell you that. I don't know what he has up his sleeve, but it makes me nervous. Can I uh, go up and get changed or don't you trust me enough?"

Bobby rests his hand on Dean's shoulder. "Go ahead."

I turn quickly and try not to let Dean see me cry as I head upstairs. I don't know why I'm surprised at his reaction. I can't imagine how he must feel right now. I'm dead, my body is upstairs waiting for Cas or someone to fix me and suddenly I'm physical again? I've never heard of anything like this happening. I close the door behind me, trying to push out the deep voices that chased me up the stairs.

If I had thought anything about this situation was weird, standing in the room with my body was the icing on the cake. Dean was right, I was tortured and torn apart. I cover my mouth with shaking fingers when I see just how much damage the demon had done in the days he had me. I barely recognize myself and if I didn't know any better, I would say that the form lying on my bed was a dummy.

I quickly step out of the sheet and into a pair of black panties, matching bra, blue jeans, a red and pink floral shirt, and grey cardigan. I pull on a pair of socks before stepping into my favorite pair of Converse sneakers. Stepping into the adjoining bathroom, I take a long look at my reflection.

Nothing. I have no physical proof that any torture happened. In fact, I look like I'm glowing. Not blindingly so, but my skin is giving off a definite glow. My hair and eyes look brighter too.

When I was in Heaven, I felt amazing. Better than I had ever felt when I was alive, like I could do anything. I knew I looked beautiful based on the way Samandriel reacted when he looked at me. I still had remnants of those feelings.

After pinning my hair back,I head back downstairs, and listen to the very male voices in my kitchen.

"I don't care Bobby, it's not her!"

"Run her through the normal tests if you really believe that. Holy water, silver blade, borax… whatever you feel like you need to do." Bobby sounds so tired.

I hear a groan rip out of Dean's throat quickly followed by heavy footsteps. "How can it be her? She's dead! Her body is upstairs, Sam made sure of it."

Sam decides to interject his opinion with a soft voice. "Dean, why can't it be her? The power that Luke had was incredible and we don't know the extent of what he was capable of. Maybe she's right, maybe his power was just enough to make her 'ghost' self physical again."

I catch a glimpse of Dean as he paces. His gun has been holstered and his hands are shoved into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. I can't even describe how incredible he looks, even worried and frustrated he is hot.

There's a familiar tug in my stomach and not 2 seconds later, his eyes are locked onto mine.

Any air I have in my lungs is quickly sucked out. "Dean."

He's in front of me in the blink of an eye, almost close enough to touch. His dark eyes search mine and I can see his resolve slowly start to crack. Every fiber in my being is screaming at me to hug him, grab him, kiss him. But I remind myself that it's not my move to make. I close my eyes when the fear that he'll back away starts to claw at my heart.

In that moment, his hands are on my face and he crashes his lips against mine. I grab his shoulders and try to pull myself closer to him than physically possible. The shock we felt before was nothing compared to the electricity humming through us as we kiss. It's not painful by any means, but it's very strong.

Just when I think I'm going to explode from everything, his lips are gone from mine and we are both gasping for air. I look up into eyes that are so dark they're an unrecognizable shade of green and they make my toes curl.

His voice is deeper than ever and it just screams that he wants to devour me. "Don't you ever leave me again."

I shake my head against his hands, "I promise."

* * *

 

Crowley sits at the massive dark cherry wood desk in the corner office of Hell. There are screams and other inhumane sounds of torture that provide background noise as he works.

Mithra is curled in a corner, still cleaning her fur that is matted with the blood of Alistair's meat suit. She had taken great pride in ripping it apart.

Crowley expected her to devour Alistair whole, but he was proven wrong. He was honestly surprised that a beast so large could take great care and expertise when ripping someone apart. In that moment, he felt so proud of her.

Now all he had to do was get the herb from the Winchesters and he could bring back the Hell beast army that Lucifer had created.

The Hell hounds of today were good and all, don't get him wrong, but there was something that was missing. Hell hounds were too mainstream. He wanted to go old school. There were a handful of the beasts left and they didn't have long. Crowley could feel their death hanging in the air.

Suddenly, a shock wave rips through Hell and it's followed by a silence that sets Crowley's teeth on edge.

The screaming resumes fairly quickly, but the power Crowley felt is still tingling on the skin of his meat suit. This wasn't the power of an Angel or some spell gone wrong. That was something bigger, much bigger.

He decides to pop in on the Winchesters. Dean would do anything to raise his pretty little girlfriend.

Crowley appears just outside of the horse barn where he had previously been summoned. The wind is cold, bordering on bitter as the clouds start to overpower the rising sun. He knows that the house is a giant devil's trap, he can feel the power pouring off of the building.

He shoves his hands into the pockets of his black trench coat after flipping up the collar and starts walking toward the back. There is an open door and when he stands at the right angle, he sees a woman with waist long fire red hair running down the hall and disappear around the corner.

Anger starts to boil in the pit of his stomach. A deal had been made. When the girl was saved, Dean would give Crowley the herb. He watches the three men move about the kitchen until the girl comes back down, and after a tense stare down, Dean goes to her. When they kiss, Crowley is convinced that Dean has broken the deal.

Crowley punches in a phone number and watches as Dean connects the call.

"What do you want Crowley?"

"The herb, as promised."

"I'm sorry Crowley, but I can't do that."

"You backing out of a deal Winchester?"

"Not this time."

"Listen, I'm not up for this crap Dean. You got your girl back –"

"I don't got my girl back!"

"That's not what I'm seeing."

Dean runs out of the hallway and to the back screen door, Sam is at his heels.

Crowley gives a mocking wave. "Hello boys."

"Damn it. Crowley, it's not what it looks like."

"Really? Because it looks to me like Serenity is up and walking about. Unless you got yourself another spunky redheaded girl overnight."

Dean sighs as he disconnects the call.

Crowley watches as Dean and Sam exchange words. Sam looks none too pleased with his older brother.

Dean disappears around the corner for a few moments before emerging, holding the hand of Serenity. They make their way to Crowley and the demon notices there are a few differences with her. The closer the couple get, the more he can see she looks almost angelic.

"Crowley, this isn't physically Serenity."

Crowley reaches out and pokes her in the shoulder. "She sure feels physical to me, mate."

"I'm physical, Crowley, but I'm not alive. My body is upstairs in the bedroom, I'm just a soul."

Crowley scoffs none too softly. "You mean you're a ghost."

"No, I'm not. After I died, I stayed connected to Dean, and since Cas couldn't fix me, I stayed here."

"Then how are you like this?"

Dean and Serenity exchange a look before she speaks. "We'll call it a freak accident."

"I'm not inclined to believe you."

Crowley looks past the couple as Sam and Bobby step out of the house, a sheet wrapped form in Sam's arms. It takes only moments before there are now 5 people standing in the back yard; 6 if you include the soul of Serenity.

Bobby removes the sheet from the face and Crowley is taken aback. It's Serenity, still damaged and beaten. "How can this be?"

"We don't know, Crowley." Bobby pulls the sheet back over her face before turning to face the demon.

"A deal is a deal though Dean. You have her back-"

"She's not back. Not completely anyway." Dean looks at Serenity out of the corner of his eye half expecting some retort.

"I'm just a soul that got caught in the crossfire of something extremely powerful. I'm not back, but I will be. The deal still stands. Once I'm up and walking about, then you get the herb."

Crowley didn't like it. In a way, she was up and walking around, but the original deal was that she was to be fixed; resurrected. She hadn't been, and if there was one thing Crowley was known for, it was his deals. He always held up his end of the bargain.

"You have one week or I'm taking you all to Hell."

* * *

 

Samandriel finds himself standing outside of a greenhouse larger than he has ever seen. His neck starts to cramp from trying to see the top of the building, there must be at least 50 floors. Add this to the list of things he hasn't seen since most greenhouses have only one floor. It shouldn't strike him as odd. This is Heaven and God he's dealing with. His nerves are frayed enough from the meeting with Serenity.

He lifts a shaking fist to the door, knocking several times. Echoes make their way through the building. After a minute of waiting, he pushes open the door and is bombarded with various sounds of nature and flowers giving off their perfume.

Samandriel's vessel doesn't like the smell sneaking up his nose and he gives a large sneeze. His voice is soft and small in the large room. "Hello?"

Like the previous series of knocks, his voice echoes and carries up to the floors above him. He silently hopes he doesn't have to check each and every floor. He lets out another loud sneeze and groans before clearing his throat to speak louder. "I know you gave explicit instructions not to be disturbed. I apologize for breaking your command."

Samandriel clears the first floor without seeing God. Looks like he's headed up.

The garrison leader clears 15 floors before he finds God. He stands back as God tends to a particularly large bush of giant red roses.

God speaks to the Angel after several long minutes. "What is it you wish to speak to me about Samandriel?" He doesn't take his eyes off the task at hand.

Samandriel moves tentatively towards his Master. "It's Castiel, sir."

"What about him this time?"

"Under your command, I ordered him not to leave Heaven."

"Is there a problem with that order?"

"For me, no sir."

"With Castiel then."

"Um, well… sort of."

"Yes or no, Samandriel."

"Yes, sir."

"What is his issue with the command?"

"Dean Winchester."

God sighs softly as he hangs his head. "What does Dean Winchester want this time?"

"That's the funny part, sir. Dean Winchester is convinced that he has found his soul mate. He wants Castiel to bring her back from the dead."

God places the pruning shears down and turns around slowly. "Soul mate, you say?" His large brown and all seeing eyes are wide as he looks hard into the face of the much younger Angel before him.

Samandriel shrinks back as if preparing to be struck down. "I told Castiel that it's impossible. You haven't created soul mates in eons, they don't exist. She uh, she came to visit me just now. She seems convinced that Castiel should be allowed to leave Heaven. I told her that he was not allowed, and that if he were to leave, he would be considered fallen; as you commanded, sir."

"I never said that he would fall, Samandriel."

"You said to keep him up here at all costs."

"I did, but don't you try to put something into command that I did not say. He is allowed to leave, he is just on a very short leash."

Samandriel is surprised that God would allow Castiel to leave after all he had done. "I – uh – are you sure?"

God's eyes are full of anger and his voice gains volume. "You dare question me, boy?"

"Um n – no sir. I just uh, I'm sorry.” When God doesn’t say anything, Samandriel grows bold. “So are they? Soul mates that is, Dean and Serenity."

A large sigh escapes out of God's mouth as he turns back to the rose bush. "I created a pair, yes."

Samandriel is at a loss for words. His mouth opens and closes several times before he finds his voice. "May I ask why, sir?"

"You may."

"Why?"

"It was imperative that John and Mary be together, to bring Dean and Sam into this world, we all know that. Dean and Sam would either bring the world to its knees or save it, and they have saved it as I knew they would. Serenity's bloodline is just as pure and heroic as the Winchesters. I wanted to make sure we would have many more years of champions. I created the soul and waited for Mary to become pregnant with Dean, and Martha to become pregnant with Serenity."

"Why were we not told of this?"

"I don't need to tell you everything! I am your commander, not the other way around, Samandriel!"

Samandriel's mind spins as he absorbs the news that God had indeed created another set of soul mates. "She is dead, sir."

"I know. I did hear you the first time."

"Well, are we to bring her back? She's just a soul right now and she's attached to Dean like a ghost would be."

"We do need them to form their own bloodline."

"I – Is there something larger at play here?"

"When isn't there, Samandriel?"

"Shall I go and release Castiel and restore his powers?"

"I would recommend you do just that." God finishes tending to the rose bush and removes his gloves after setting the shears on the table. He starts to walk away from Samandriel, toward the staircase.

Samandriel is alone in the rose room. He had a feeling there was something larger at play here, but what exactly? They had barely avoided one apocalypse, was there to be another one? Serenity said that they had something that could bring Hell on Earth and that a deal had been made with Crowley.

If Serenity is brought back, Crowley will get what he needs. If she isn't, there is no deal.

What if Samandriel doesn't restore Castiel's powers or let him out of Heaven? How is he to know that God granted him a pardon? If Castiel isn't able to restore the girl, then they will avoid Hell on Earth.

Samandriel heads back to his now empty office, weighing his options.


	22. Restoration of Power

Four days have passed since Crowley and Dean agreed on one week. We haven't heard from Castiel or Samandriel, and I am starting to get really anxious.

Dean and I are lying in the back yard, a blue and red plaid blanket lay between us and the grass. My head against his chest while his strong fingers thread through my hair.

"We could run away. Between the four of us, we have more than enough knowledge to keep them off our ass."

His chest vibrates as he chuckles. "We could, but trust me when I say, we wouldn't last forever."

I sigh heavily, I know we wouldn't. I also know I won't be lasting much longer in my current state. I feel like I'm slipping away a little more each day. Luke's power was strong and I felt amazing the first couple of days, but it's slowly fading, and so am I. If we don't get Cas down here and get my body fixed, I won't be around much longer. I did my own calculations and figured out that by the time Crowley comes for Dean, Sam, and Bobby, I will be invisible again. Just in time for a ride to Hell, great.

"Hey, you ok there?"

I shake my head against his chest, grabbing on to his side with my free hand. "I just wish Cas would get his feathery ass down here."

His lips press against the top of my head. "You and me both, sweetheart."

"We might have to summon him. And Samandriel."

"I was thinking of summoning Samandriel, at least. You said that Cas would fall and I don't want that for him. I don't think he would know what to do if he was a mortal."

"Well, why don't we do that then? Let's summon the little bastard."

"One step ahead of you. I already have Sam setting up the sigils and Angel trap while Bobby is in town getting all the ingredients you don't have in your stockpile."

Pushing up, I look down into his face. The sun has highlighted his hair and I can see every freckle on his warm skin. I trace my fingers along his jaw before placing a soft kiss on his lips. "Why are you here instead of helping them out?"

"I felt like you needed me more than they did. Besides, they're big boys. They know what they're doing."

"Can I tell you something?"

Dean pushes up to rest on his elbow, concern taking hold of his features. "You can tell me anything."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"If I hadn't called Bobby about the bodies, he wouldn't have dragged you along, and you wouldn't be facing another ride to Hell." I try and hide the wetness in my eyes, but Dean doesn't miss it.

He reaches up to wipe away the stray tear and tucks some hair behind my ear. "This may not be the most ideal situation for us, but here we are. We're facing a ride to Hell, so what? We've faced a lot worse."

"But I haven't. Dean, I'm dead. I'm lying upstairs rotting away. I shouldn't even be here like this right now."

"But you are."

"I'm not me, Dean. You said it yourself. This isn't right."

He pushes off the ground completely and wraps his strong arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest. "I'm sorry I ever said that to you."

I dig my fingers into his strong back. "But you're right-"

"Stop it, I was wrong. It's not perfect, but we get to be together until Cas fixes you. We'll get you fixed and we'll get Crowley off our backs."

"If Crowley gets the herb, it's not going to end well… for any of us."

"We'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Let's just focus on getting you back in your body ok?" He pulls back to look down at me.

When I nod in agreement, his lips pull into a half smile. "Good."

Before I can even think, his mouth is on mine and it sends sparks shooting through me, settling in the pit of my stomach. I don't think I'll ever get used to this feeling. As the kiss deepens and intensifies, so does the pressure of his hands on my back. I feel his body respond to mine and I revel in it. My insides are a big pile of goo, and all I want is to feel every last inch of him.

Just as we're about to fall against the ground, some classic rock song interrupts us; Bobby is calling. Dean tugs the phone out of his pocket, connecting the call as he rips his mouth away from mine. "This better be good."

I let out a soft whine as I keep myself occupied with his ear and neck.

"Ren's contact in town doesn't have one ingredient here."

"Why can't it ever be simple when it comes to these Angels?"

"There's a store a couple towns over. It's going to take me a couple hours just to get there."

"So we might not be able to do any summoning tonight?"

"It all depends on the store and if they have the root we need."

Dean growls, a mixture of frustration and arousal. "Great. Well, we gotta have it."

"Alright, I'll give a call if something comes up. Bye."

Dean disconnects the call and throws his phone on the blanket. "Woman, you are going to be the death of me."

I look up at him with wide eyes and can't hide the playful smile. "Oh, like you're complaining."

"You know I'm not. Listen, your guy in town doesn't have the root we need so Bobby has to head a few towns over."

I raise an eyebrow as my fingers drag down his chest and under the green over shirt he's wearing. "Whatcha wanna do while we wait?"

He gives an audible moan as he presses his fingertips into my hips. "I think you know what I wanna do… but –"

I feel my face fall, "but not until I'm fixed, right?"

He dips his head in a curt nod and I mirror his action. I clear my throat as I push away and stand up. "It's uh, getting late. I'm sure you and Sam are hungry… steaks ok?"

Not waiting for an answer, I turn and jog toward the house. I don't know why I thought Dean would want me like this.

I feel a little bit of the power holding me together drain away the closer I get to the house. Cas better hurry up, I'm not sure how much longer I'll be able to hold it together. All I really want is for Dean to hold me. I want him to be the last thing I feel before I disappear again. Somehow I know that Cas will follow through. I've never had a reason to distrust him… he better not give me a reason now.

* * *

 

Castiel feels a bit odd watching over the two humans as they kiss. He tries to fight off the feeling that there are butterflies trapped in the confines of his stomach.

It has been four days since Samandriel went and spoke with God. Samandriel had not come looking for the Angel, nor was Castiel able to find him. The security at his office had been tripled, and try as he might, Castiel could not gain access by other means. Time was running out for the humans he cared for most and Castiel had a feeling that his leader was stalling, but why?

He had asked other Angles in the garrison if they had seem Samandriel or God. As usual, he was met with resistance as well as judgment for his past behavior.

It had not been an easy transition back into Heaven. He felt he no longer belonged up here, that he was impure and not worthy of his status.

Since returning from Purgatory, he had been able to bury most of his emotions, but the ones he couldn't seem to get rid of was the guilt and shame. He had slaughtered most of his family, all because he felt like he was doing the right thing, and you know what they say about hindsight.

He had let his Father down, but that wasn't what troubled him the most. He had let Dean Winchester down.

Yes, he had become attached to the Winchesters, Dean in particular, but he didn't feel that punishment was necessary for that; there was no crime. He had seen many other Angels grow attached to their humans and they had gone unpunished. His humans had stopped the Apocalypse, he had even helped. He was proud of that.

He was also proud of Dean and the role he played. Dean disregarded his own health and safety so that his brother wouldn't have to be alone at the end. The words he spoke made it so Sam could push Lucifer to the side, succeeding in throwing the Devil back into Hell for good.

After all that they have been through, after all that they have lost, why wasn't Dean allowed to have this one small thing?

Castiel could see from Heaven that Dean and Serenity were soul mates. How Samandriel could not see that was beyond him. The energy the two gave off as their lips meet is so beautiful, Castiel couldn't describe it to a blind person if they asked; it was so beautiful and pure.

He watches as Dean takes a phone call and a few moments later, Serenity walks back to the house alone. On her way,she stumbles, and Cas can see the light shimmering off her skin fade just a little bit. Involuntarily, he reaches out to grab her only to remember he's on lockdown. His strong hands ball into fists and before he knows it, he appears outside of a very large garden.

There's an old white arch at the entrance and it's covered in purple lilacs, their perfume is faint and subtle. The beauty and sounds of the garden within call to him and his legs work on their own accord. It's not until he has reached the center of the massive garden that he realizes just where he is, God's first garden; Eden.

A deep voice pulls Castiel's attention away from the greener than green bushes; everything is brighter than it should be. "My Child, what can I do for you this lovely evening?"

It has been a while since Castiel has been in the presence of God, and he is momentarily struck mute. "I - I'm sorry, please forgive my intrusion."

"Your apology is not necessary, Castiel. I have been waiting for you to come."

"You have?" The form turns to face Castiel and the Angel bows slightly at the waist, "my Lord."

God removes his gardening gloves and tucks them into his back pocket as he moves closer to the trench coat wearing Angel. "There is something weighing heavily on your mind, Castiel, isn't there?"

"Yes, there is. I was hoping Samandriel has been to see you."

The Creator clears his throat softly and his features smooth. "Samandriel was here four days ago, yes. Has he not found you yet?"

"He has not. I have also been denied access to see him as well."

"Hm, that sure does make things a bit more interesting, doesn't it?"

"When Samandriel had spoken with you, what did he say?"

"He asked about soul mates."

"What was your response, Sir?"

"My response was that yes, I created a pair of soulmates. They are needed, their children are needed if the human race wishes to continue with their existence."

"B - but she's dead."

"You haven't gone down there to resurrect her?"

"No, Lord. As I said, Samandriel never found me after your meeting."

"Why that little-"

"She called him a sniveling little waste of Angel wings." Castiel can't help but laugh at the memory.

God's eyes go wide and out pours a laugh that is so deep and rich, it feels like velvet inside Castiel's head. "That's a good way to put it.”

"I'm sorry to ask. Sir, will I fall?"

"Will you fall?"

"If I leave now, will I fall?"

God places his large hands on the Angel's shoulders and looks deep into his bright blue eyes. "You most certainly will not fall when you leave."

"My powers? I tried using them after Alistair killed Serenity but there was nothing."

"I'm not sure what Samandriel did to your powers, but it was not by my will." God closes his eyes briefly.

Castiel feels a warmth in the pit of his stomach before it spreads through his body, out towards his fingers and toes. There's a bright light as the power radiates out of him and even though it feels like it takes a long time, it is over in a matter of seconds.

"Your powers have been restored Castiel."

Castiel flexes his fingers and spreads his hands out in front of his face, they look… different, he feels different. "What about Samandriel, Sir?"

"I will take care of Samandriel. You are free to leave." There's a gleam in God's eyes as he winks at the Angel. He heads deeper into the garden, whistling a light and happy tune.

As Castiel watches the form get swallowed by the shrubbery, the garden around him begins to change.

The brightness and beauty of Heaven fades, replaced slowly by the darkness that is the forest surrounding the Harker property. To his left is a pole barn and there are bright lights coming from the front door. He remembers having seen Sam setting up an Angel trap while he was in Heaven.


	23. Assertion of Power

Sam is finishing the incantation while Bobby and Dean take care of the rest of the ritual. The book states that five people are needed, but the three of them can handle it.

Just as Sam finishes the last syllable, Cas bursts through the open front door and watches as Samandriel appears in the center of the circle. His dark brown eyes are wide, full of fear as he gains his bearings and takes in his surroundings.

All eyes are drawn to the unexpected visitor. Dean is the first to say anything. "Cas, what are you doing here?"

"I have come to do your bidding."

The small leather book in Sam's hands almost falls into the holy oil fire that is holding Samandriel hostage. "I'm confused. I thought you were a prisoner up there."

Cas moves close enough to the fire to feel the heat, remembering when he was trapped in a circle just like this. "I was. You would have to ask Samandriel as to why."

"Castiel, I was only doing what I thought God wanted me to do."

"That is a lie, Samandriel. I spoke with God and this was not his will."

"You spoke with God?"

"I did, Samandriel, and He had a lot to say. Let me ask you a few questions. Do you know that it is God's will that this girl be raised from the dead? Do you know that it is God's will that these two not be separated by anything, least of all by you?"

"Yes, Castiel, I am aware."

"Then why would you keep me locked up in Heaven and powerless?"

"I was scared."

"Scared of what, Samandriel?"

"Who do you think God would be angry with if you went rogue? Me! I would be punished for you losing your way again."

"I told you, I will not stray again. I have apologized in more languages and more times than I can even count. I do not understand what more you want from me."

"Perfection, Castiel, we are to be perfect."

"Perfection cannot be attained, Samandriel. The humans that are in our care are nowhere near perfect, yet we love them and care for them. Who are you to demand perfection?"

"We are different than them, can't you see that? God holds us to a higher standard than His precious humans. We are to be looked up to, we are to be the reflection of God himself, and we are to be perfect!"

Dean's voice invades their conversation. "I'm sorry to burst your bubble, man, but if you seek perfection, you might want to look someplace else. How did you get here Cas?"

"I was speaking with God and as He walked away, I was transported here. I had watched Sam set up the circle and saw the light from the forest. I knew you would be in here."

Dean wraps his arms around the Angel and pats his back. "It's good to see you, buddy."

Cas places his hands awkwardly on the back of his favorite charge. "It is good to see you, too, but where is Serenity?"

"She wanted to lie down after dinner."

"Her light is fading. The power that gave her physical form is dissipating."

Sam, Dean, and Bobby put down the objects in their hands and start piling out of the pole barn.

The flames are hot against Cas's back as Samandriel calls out to the Angel. "You're not going to leave me here, are you?"

Cas looks up to see a section of the roof is open, allowing the rays of the moon to seep in. His strong hand grabs the handle of the door. "What's it look like, boss?" He pulls the door closed behind him as a grin pulls at his lips. He jogs up behind the three men as they lead him into the house.

Serenity is spread out on the couch, her long red hair looks like a curtain as it pools onto the floor.

Dean sits down next to her and places his hand on her shoulder, shaking slightly. "Ren? Baby, you gotta wake up now."

She struggles against his grip and moans.

Dean leans down closer to her ear. "Someone is here for you. Cas came back and he's going to fix you."

Her voice is soft, yet Cas can hear it at the back of the room. "I don't want to be fixed."

"You don't mean that."

"Yeah I do, Dean. You don't want me the way I am. Why would you want me in a rotting body?"

Dean looks up at Sam and Bobby. Cas can see the blood rush to his face in embarrassment. "I do want you, baby, we just need to fix you first."

Serenity sits up suddenly and Dean all but falls off the couch. "I'm not broken, Dean, I'm dead."

Dean places his large hands over Serenity's, his knees on the wooden floor. "I know you are, but you don't have to stay dead. Please… please let Cas put you back."

"I don't know, Dean, I'm not sure I want to come back."

"What do you mean you don't want to come back?"

Serenity closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Cas watches as her shimmer fades a little more. "I'm just so tired. Please let me go."

"Dean, I hate to interrupt but if I don't get her soul back in her body before she fades, I'm not sure I can save her."

Bobby whirls around to face Cas. "What?"

Cas points at Serenity. "The power that made her physical is giving off a shimmer, a light that started to fade from the moment it touched her. Once it is gone, I don't know where she'll go or if I can get her back. I can heal her now, but only with her blessing. If she doesn't want it, I can't do it."

Shock takes over Dean's face and he reaches up to hers, drawing her gaze to him. "You hear that? We will lose you forever if you don't say yes. I will lose you forever."

Cas walks up behind Dean and places his hand on her leg. "Serenity, this doesn't just affect Dean if you choose not to come back."

Her large eyes meet the Angel's with confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I spoke with God and he has a plan."

Tears start to stream down her face and she works frantically to sweep them away. "A plan? A PLAN?! Did His plan include ripping my parents away from me? Did His plan include me having to fight for my life and watch those that I love die? Tell me, Cas, what is His plan?"

Cas leans down and whispers into her ear, something that no one else in the room can hear except for her. When he pulls back, her eyes are dry, but wide enough that he can see white surrounding the irises. "Now tell me Serenity, what do you want?"

The other three men exchange confused and worried looks as Serenity ponders her next words. Dean is beyond curious as to what Cas whispered in her ear, but first thing's first, he wants to hear her answer.

It doesn't take long before she's ready to speak, her voice is soft and cracks with emotion. "I want to be saved."

Dean stands and moves out of the way as Serenity lifts her arms like a child. Cas has her in his grip in the blink of an eye and ascends the stairs. Dean is following closely, holding her long hair so it doesn't get stepped on.

The Angel has one request. "Sam and Bobby, if you could please grab a bucket and some wet towels, and meet us upstairs, we can get this show on the road."

The smell of rotting flesh is pungent as the door is opened and Dean fights the urge to throw up. He has been around his share of dead bodies, but they tend not to hang around long afterwards.

Cas moves to the bed and lowers Serenity next to her dead body.

Feeling like he’s in the way, Dean stands back, watching as the Angel moves around the room.

Sam and Bobby enter with their arms full of wet towels and buckets.

"Place the bucket on the floor there and the towels will go on the dead body."

The two men hurry with their tasks and stand back, watching with wide eyes as Cas removes his trench coat and rolls the sleeves of his white dress shirt up to his elbows.

He moves gracefully between the two Serenity's, the dead one to his left and the sleeping one to his right. He places a hand on each of the stomachs before catching Dean's fearful gaze. "This is new to me Dean, but I will do everything I can."

"What are the buckets and towels for?"

"The bucket is for Serenity when I place her soul back in her body, she might not react well to it. The towels are to help stabilize her body temperature. She's been dead for 4 days, Dean. Her body is cold and rotting from the inside out. Hopefully I'll be able to fix everything."

"Hopefully?"

"I've brought people back from the dead before. I fixed your body when I raised you from Hell, but I've never dealt with something like this."

Dean nods before sitting down in the chair next to the bed, his fingers itch to take the Serenity on the right's hand and hold on for dear life. He's not sure what he's going to do if this doesn't work. It should though, Cas was able to raise Dean's soul from Hell; this shouldn't be too difficult right?

Cas dips his head and closes his eyes, words that cannot be understood by the human ear are uttered and his shoulders start to shake with the strain. His hands, followed by his wrists and forearms start to sink into the stomachs of Serenity. He doesn't stop until his hands are wrapped around each of their hearts and his elbows are resting on their spines.

There's an explosion of vanilla and honey in the air as a dull white light starts to emanate from the point of entry. The light grows brighter with the utterance of each word. The Angel's voice gains volume and strength, and there's a high pitch feedback sound that grows louder the brighter the light gets. It finally becomes too much and the three men have to close their eyes.

When the light begins to filter in through the skin of their eyelids, forearms are the next thing used for protection. Just when it feels like blood is going to start pouring out of their ears, everything stops. The only sound in the sudden quiet is the rapid beating of Dean's heart. For the briefest of moments, Dean wonders if he has gone deaf. He can see Sam and Bobby's lips moving, but their voices are muffled.

Cas is no longer on the bed. He is across the room with his back against the wall, and he's covered in sweat and blood from both elbows down.

Dean reaches the Angel first. "Cas? Buddy, you ok?"

Cas is winded and finds it difficult to fill his vessel's lungs with enough oxygen. "I – I think so, yes. It is done, but I think I may have overexerted myself."

Sam is next to Dean with a spare towel and wipes the sweat off Cas' forehead. "What do you need?"

Cas takes the towel from Sam and starts to rid the blood from his skin. "I need to rest. Is there someplace I can lie down?"

Dean nods to his brother, and they work to get the Angel off the floor and into the bedroom next door. After they get him settled, they share worried looks before walking back into Serenity's bedroom.

Bobby is next to the bed, holding her hand and pushing her dull red hair off her forehead.

Sam stands behind Bobby with a large hand on his shoulder while Dean moves to the other side of the bed. Sitting next to Serenity, he grabs her cold and clammy hand.

15 minutes pass and she is still unconscious.

Dean looks down at the frail looking hand in his much larger, calloused one and is shocked to find that all the bruises and cuts have disappeared. He looks up to find the same shocked expression on Sam and Bobby's face; her body is repairing itself. The men watch as the ligaments, muscle and veins repair themselves before finally being covered with skin; it is an extremely slow process as there are hundreds of injuries.

After all the cuts are mended, the lividity marks on the back of her body start to disappear along with any bruising that was coloring her skin.

Dean looks at Bobby and Sam. "Son of a bitch. He did it."

Bobby nods in agreement as a rogue tear strays down his cheek and they all watch as Serenity's skin color starts to change. It goes from rotting corpse grey to having just been kissed by the sun. Her lips and cheeks flush with color and her hair regains its fire red brilliance from the roots down.

But she doesn't wake up and that makes Dean's heart hitch in his chest.

Bobby can see the fear taking hold of Dean and he reaches out to the younger man. "Give her time boy."

"How much more time could she need? She's been gone for four days, you would think she'd be jumping out of this bed."

"She has also been living outside of her body for those four days, something neither have us have experienced before."

"It's been two hours since Cas worked on her." Dean's eyes wander up to his younger brother.

"Dean, her body has improved, that's a huge step right now. We have no idea what's going on inside or how long that will take."

Dean's voice is deep and he suddenly feels so tired. "I know, Sammy, I'm just worried about her. What if her resistance before is preventing her from coming back completely?"

Sam shrugs in confusion. "It could have something to do with it, we just need to give her time. You heard her downstairs, she was tired. Maybe she needs a good night sleep."

The three men all nod at each other and after sitting for another hour, Sam and Bobby shuffle quietly out of the room.

Dean removes his hiking boots and lies down next to Serenity. Resting on his right side, he places his head next to hers and breathes in the vanilla and honey that seems to be coming off her skin. He grabs her hands and places them on her stomach; smiling when he feels her stomach move up and down with her breathing. Exhaustion takes hold and it's not long before he is falling down the dark tunnel of sleep.

* * *

 

Cas leans down and whispers into my ear, something that no one else in the room can hear except for me. "I can fix everything about you Serenity. The knife attack when you were 22, you needed to have a complete hysterectomy; I can rebuild you. You can marry Dean and you can have as many children as you want. Your children will save the world; that is His plan for you. All He wants is for you to be happy."

When he pulls back, my eyes are dry, but wide enough that I know he can see white surrounding the irises. "Now tell me Serenity, what do you want?"

The other three men exchange confused and worried looks as I ponder my next words. I see the curiosity on Dean's face, he wants to know what Cas whispered in my ear but first thing's first, he wants to hear my answer.

"I want to be saved."

As soon as I feel his strong arms pull me off the couch, everything goes black. I struggle internally against the darkness, suddenly afraid that I won't be coming back.

"Hello? Is there anyone there? Cas?" My voice echoes in the large space and I reach out with my hands. My feet shuffle along the hard floor as I move toward… nothing. "Please don't leave me here! I – I don't want to stay. I'm sorry I said I didn't want to be fixed, please!"

I suck in a deep breath when there's a searing pain in my stomach. Placing my hand against the soft skin, I'm surprised when I don't feel something poking out. Any air I have in my lungs escapes as the pain moves higher in my body until I feel something grab hold of my heart. I let out an ear piercing scream as the thing gripping my heart squeezes.

My knees buckle and I'm on the floor writhing in pain. Out of the corner of my eye, I see a light. It starts out small, but quickly gets larger and brighter. There's someone chanting in a language I can't recognize and as the light gets brighter, so does the voice. Just as I feel like I'm going to explode from the inside out, everything stops.

The chanting, the light and the pain are all gone.

Instead of the dark room, I'm in water, deep down and it's dark. Dark enough that I can't tell which way is up. My lungs start to burn from lack of oxygen when a familiar light catches my eye and I swim toward it, praying hard that it's the surface.

The light gets larger and brighter, and I can feel myself getting closer to passing out. My lungs are screaming at me to breath and just as I'm about to take a large mouthful of water, I break through the surface. Gasping for air, I let out a scream full of fear.

I sit upright, feeling as if my insides are made of fire and ice, and I scream louder and longer than I have ever screamed before. I don't hear Dean next to me calling out my name, I don't feel his hands on my face trying to get me to look at him, and I don't see or hear Sam and Bobby barge in the room. I just feel the pain as my insides finish rebuilding themselves.

I scream until I can't scream anymore, and then, digging deep down, I find that I can scream some more.


	24. Finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter contains smut.

The high pitch, blood curdling screams yank Dean out of a dream full of kissing and skin touching skin. His heart pounds against his chest like a jackhammer.

 

Serenity is sitting up in bed, her eyes are open, and there are screams full of pain and agony filling the room. 

 

He straddles her legs and places his face in front of hers, but her eyes are unfocused and unseeing. Grabbing her shoulders, he shakes them, yelling her name as fear snakes around his heart.

 

Sam and Bobby barge in the room with their hands over their ears. Sam tries getting his brother’s attention by yelling, but his voice is drowned out by the constant screams. 

 

With wide eyes, Dean turns around at the feel of Bobby's hand on his shoulder.

 

The older man nods before reaching out a hand and striking Serenity across the face. The sudden silence is a welcome reprieve as the recently resurrected Serenity goes limp in Dean’s arms. He gently sets her back on the bed.

 

The three men walk out of the room and down to the kitchen. It's the dead of night and it has started to snow. Small flakes dance slowly from the dark sky, glittering in the moonlight. 

 

Dean elicits a loud yawn as his brother sits down across the table. "What happened up there?"

 

"I don't know. After you two went to bed, I fell asleep, and the next thing I know, she's sitting up, stiff as a board and screaming. She sounded like she was in pain."

 

Bobby grabs some water for the three of them and takes a place at the table. He runs his hand over his face trying to wipe away the sleep. "Maybe she was. We saw her body healing itself from the outside, we didn't exactly get to see what it was doing on the inside. I can't imagine it would be a pleasant feeling."

 

"No, I guess it wouldn't be." Dean shifts in his seat as his fingers dive through his pillow formed hair.

 

"Dean, she'll be alright."

 

"I know, Sam."

 

"What's eating at you then?"

 

"I – I'm scared."

 

" _ You're _ scared?"

 

"I don't really know what I'm feeling right now. We've been through a lot more in the last few months than we've been through in a long time. We thought this was going to be a simple werewolf case. We find out there are creatures that pre-date Hell hounds and it turns out I have a soul mate."

 

"I thought you were accepting of that, that you felt like you couldn't live without her?"

 

"I can't, but it's still a huge pill to swallow."

 

"What are you going to do, Dean?"

 

"What do you mean?"

 

"After she wakes up and she's completely yours again, are you going to stay here with her or…" Sam lets his voice trail off as he watches his older brother realize what he's getting at.

 

"I hadn't really thought about it to be honest. I don't think I'll stop hunting, if that's what you're getting at."

 

"I knew you'd say that." A tired sigh fills the room.

 

"What are you getting at Sam?"

 

"Are you going to stay here? Should I go back with Bobby?"

 

Bobby shrugs his shoulders, "my house is your house kid, you know that."

 

Sam nods in appreciation in Bobby's direction, his eyes not leaving Dean’s. "Is this it?"

 

Dean doesn't hide the shock that blazes across his face. "Why would it be the end? Just because I found someone?"

 

"I didn't mean it like that."

 

"Well, that's how you said it."

 

Sam spreads his long fingers against the soft wood of the table and sighs softly. "I – I wouldn't mind stopping."

 

Dean’s brows furrow together. "Stopping what?"

 

Sam lifts his large hazel eyes to his older brother’s deep green ones. "Hunting. We stopped the Apocalypse and we defeated the Leviathans. We've been going non-stop like gangbusters since you got out of Purgatory and honestly, I'm tired, Dean. You got lucky finding Serenity, but what about me?"

 

"Oh, you mean Amelia?" Dean tries to hide the snarl in his voice without success.

 

Anger splashes across the younger brother’s face. "Not necessarily, but even if I did, so what?"

 

"No, I'm not doing this now, Sammy. I don't know what is going to happen, but I do know that I love her and I'm staying with her. If she wants to stay here and go back to her job then yes, this will be my new base. If she wants to head out on the road with me, or us, then that's what we'll do. Besides, I'm sure she would have no problem with you staying here. You're my brother, you're family, and nothing means more to her than family." Dean’s gaze moves from Sam to Bobby, and they both nod at each other. "She would have no problem with all of us staying here."

 

Dean turns his attention to the ceiling as the floorboards creak, Serenity is on the move. His long legs push his body away from the table and up the stairs three at a time.

 

* * *

 

The room is dark, blurry, and it's a struggle for my eyes to focus. I sit up slowly and suck in a breath as my weary muscles protest against the movement. As I rub at my eyes with the palms of my hands, I wrack my brain and try to remember how I got up here wearing only a black satin sheet. Using the end table for leverage, I stand on shaking legs, smiling when I don't fall flat on my face. I use the wall for assistance and move toward the bathroom since I have the feeling that I am in desperate need of a shower.

 

As the hot water washes over my skin I realize that there are giant gaps in my memory. I remember everything until I died and that's when it gets fuzzy. 

 

I was with Dean and then I wasn't. I was in an office with two Angels and then I wasn't. I was with Dean again, but it was different. I wasn't dead, but I was. An Angel came down from Heaven and gripped me by the heart and soul. 

 

I swallow hard as I place my shaking hand against my chest. Looking down at my stomach where I had felt his hand enter, I find… nothing. No blemishes to indicate someone had been digging inside of me.

 

_ "I can rebuild you. You can marry Dean and you can have as many children as you want. Your children will save the world." _ A deep and gravelly voice invades my thoughts and I dig my hands into my lower stomach.

 

Deep down I know, I just know that even though it's been over a decade since I was brutally assaulted, I will be able to have kids.

 

I finish my shower, where after wrapping my hair in a towel and drying off, I head into the bedroom on slightly sturdier legs. I pull on a pair of matching purple undergarments, a pair of loose fitting jeans and a dark green long sleeved shirt. Back in the bathroom, I bend at the waist and towel dry my hair when the bedroom door flies open, smacking against the wall behind it.

 

"REN?!" A voice full of exhaustion and concern fills the room.

 

My heart leaps into my throat as adrenaline surges through my bloodstream; Dean. 

 

Heavy footsteps move around the bed and toward the bathroom as I find myself rooted to the floor. I'm pretty sure my nerves match my hair, messy and out of control. He enters the doorway and it's as if I'm seeing him for the first time all over again.

 

His jeans are loose and very well worn, probably his favorite pair. They're wrinkled as if he slept in them. The black t-shirt clinging to his chest and stomach is wrinkled as well, doing very little to hide the muscle definition. Dirty blonde hair is pointing every which way and my palms itch to run through the soft strands. Dark green eyes are surrounded by black circles, a sign he has been getting even less than his ‘normal’ four hours a night.

 

My eyes fall to his full lips and there's a strong tug in the pit of my stomach. Electricity burns through my veins and the only thing that will cause to subside, is him.

 

One moment he's standing in the door frame, and in the next, he's in front of me; having crossed the room in three strides of his long legs. His hands are in my hair and his lips are against mine a split second later.

 

The taste of him elicits a moan and I press my body against his, my arms loop around his waist while my hands grab at his back, pulling him closer to me. The firmness of his body against mine sends another rush of adrenaline through me. I find it very difficult to keep myself from ripping his clothes off and taking him in the bathroom.

 

I pull my mouth from his and work hard to fill my lungs with oxygen. His dark green eyes bore into mine and any oxygen left in the room feels as if it's sucked out the window. My eyes flick down to his kiss swollen lips as he speaks. 

 

"Don't you ever leave me again, you got that?" His voice is thick with arousal and need.

 

I suddenly feel playful as I suck my bottom lip between my teeth. "What are you gonna do, spank me?" I turn around in his grip.

 

Strong fingers press into my hips as my backside settles against his groin. He lets me finish brushing my hair before he spins me around. His eyes are an even darker shade of green than before and I don't have to guess what is going through his mind.

 

I suck in a breath through my teeth as his strong hands slide against my butt and my feet are no longer on the floor. I grab onto his shoulders as my legs work on their own accord and wrap around his waist, feet hooking behind him, inadvertently pressing our bodies closer together. His eyelids flutter closed as he tries to stifle a moan and I find myself longing to attack his neck with my lips.

 

He doesn't open his eyes yet, but he starts the journey back to the bedroom and it feels like there's a thousand fireworks exploding in my body as our bodies shift against one another. I can't contain myself as he walks. I attack his neck and jaw, working my way back to his mouth.

 

We fall to the bed in a mess of limbs and get lost in another earth shaking, soul shattering kiss. Our clothes seem to melt away. His hands are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. My own hands mirror his, touching everything they can and it feels like it's not enough; I want to feel more of him.

 

He tears his mouth away from mine just enough to gaze down at me. His eyes are hypnotizing and I feel myself get lost in them. Shifting his hips, he enters me almost painfully slow. It's not until our hips touch that his eyes close and he rests his forehead against mine.

 

A deep moan climbs out of his chest and it sends shivers along my spine. I stretch to accommodate his size, unable to stop a whimper as it escapes. 

 

His eyes fly open and with a growl, claiming my lips once more before he starts moving slow at first, working up to an almost fevered pace. It's not long before the pressure starts to build low in my belly, the coil growing tighter and tighter. I'm not going to last too much longer and neither is he. 

 

He trembles above me, shuddering as I jump off the cliff of ecstasy. I bite his shoulder to muffle the scream while he buries his face in my neck. His breath hot against my skin as he pulses.

 

We lie together, our skin is covered in a sheet of sweat, and our lungs work to regain normal oxygen intake. Dean shifts to my side and I can't stop a shiver as I feel suddenly empty. I turn on my side, pressing my body against his and set my leg across his. My fingers draw lazy circles on his chest and stomach.

 

I give a content sigh before placing a kiss against his collarbone, my mind wandering back to what he said earlier. "I promise to do everything in my power not to leave you again, as long as you'll do the same."

 

His long fingers dig into my back, mirroring mine against his chest. With a furrowed brow, he turns his head. "God himself would have to get rid of me."

 

* * *

 

Sam and Bobby watch as Dean bolts out of the room and up the stairs. 

 

Bobby gives his head a shake before his eyes drift to the younger man sitting next to him. "Dean's right you know."

 

"Yeah? About what?"

 

"Staying here. Serenity's not one for kicking someone out."

 

One of Sam’s hands dives through his long hair as he sighs. "I know that."

 

"Well then, what's bothering you boy?"

 

"Right now it's the deal with Crowley. Serenity’s back and now we have to hand over this game changing herb."

 

Bobby moves awkwardly in his seat. "Maybe the herb is so old that the spell won't even work."

 

"But what if it does? Are we going to have another Apocalypse on our hands? You know Crowley, he'll do what it takes to keep his title."

 

"I'm not sure, but whatever happens, I know we can handle it."

 

Sam lets the silence stretch before clearing his throat. "I meant what I said about wanting to quit."

 

Bobby pushes back from the table and stands behind Sam, his hands resting on the much larger shoulders. "I know you do. I've known it since before you got out of the pit. Who knows, maybe you will get to." After squeezing Sam’s shoulders, Bobby heads into the living room.

 

Sam sits for a while at the table, drinking the rest of the water before getting up, his back protesting slightly as he stretches. There is a slight draft in the old house as the snow starts to fall thicker, and in the light of the full moon, it is gorgeous. 

 

Sam starts a fire in the front sitting room before lying back on the couch, a balled up sweatshirt acting as a pillow. He tucks a hand under the back of his head while his long legs dangle off the end of the plush couch.

 

He isn't going to admit this to anyone, especially Dean, but he is jealous. He’s jealous of the sudden and intense relationship his older brother has with Serenity, he wants an all-consuming love too. Sure, he had a great time earlier this year with Amelia, and he could have loved her while they were together, but he knew they weren't going to make it, and not just because Dean clawed his way out of Purgatory.

 

Deep down, Sam knows that he belongs with someone that can handle the hunting lifestyle, someone that has experienced it firsthand. As the fire spreads its warmth through the room, Sam’s eyelids grow heavy and his breathing grows labored. Just as he falls into a sea of unconsciousness, a spunky woman with curly, long, black hair pops into his mind, someone he hasn't thought about in almost five years.

 

A whisper of her name is drowned out by the crackling fire and a smile takes his lips hostage.

 

* * *

 

Bobby walks slowly and quietly up the stairs, he knew that once Dean and Serenity were in the same room after her being healed, they would want some quality time together and he did not want to disturb them. The door to her room was wide open and he risks a glance into the dark room. There are two forms wrapped around each other on the bed, sleeping. A lopsided smile spreads over the older man’s lips as he pulls the door shut, praying the old hinges don't squeal.

 

He strips out of his jeans and red and white flannel shirt, leaving on the grey undershirt and boxers to sleep in. His brain seems to not realize the body is tired, craving just a few hours of sleep. There are many things that run rampant through his thoughts and there's nothing he can do but give in.

 

He is more than glad that Cas was able to heal Serenity. He wasn’t sure what he would do if they had to burn her body in a hunter’s funeral. She was like his daughter and you're not supposed to bury your children. 

 

If there was one thing he wasn't expecting out of this trip, it was to have Dean fall head over heels in love, let alone with Serenity. She had been the most stubborn and independent little girl he had ever known. So much like her Mama and Dean. 

 

He can't help but chuckle lightly when scenarios of their possible arguments pop into his thoughts.

 

They will need to get a hold of Crowley soon now that Serenity is back, and Bobby doesn't like the thought of Crowley having any more power than he already does; but a deal is a deal. They could just kill him, but the thought of some other lower level demon getting their filthy claws on the throne puts a sour taste in his mouth. For all the evil Crowley has done, he is better than the alternative. He served his time and clawed his way up the ranks and honestly, he deserves it. Just don't let anyone else know it.

 

Sam… Sam is worrying Bobby. He knows the boy wants out. Hell, he never wanted in in the first place. John and Dean always pulled him back just when he started to have some sort of a normal life. If anyone deserves to have a normal life, it's these two boys. They have sacrificed and lost so much. So much more than humanly possible and yet, they are both still standing. The strength these two boys contained at times makes Bobby jealous. 

 

Sure, he came back from having to kill his own wife, but that just about broke him. He never let anyone see just how close he was to putting a bullet in his own head.

 

When this deal is over, he will do whatever he can to help these boys have a normal life, Serenity too. They can get married, have normal jobs, and have a gaggle of kids. Bobby can close down Singer Salvage and maybe build a house on the Harker property, with Serenity's blessing of course. Maybe he will even give Jody a call one of these days.

 

He can still feel her lips on his if he thinks about it hard enough. As soon as she enters his mind, all other thoughts and problems are pushed to the side, and he finally drifts off to sleep.

 

* * *

 

A stiffness in my neck starts to eat at my dreams. There is light peeking in through the curtains and after I get my eyes to focus, I find I'm completely wrapped in the limbs of Dean Winchester. Lying on my right side, my back is firmly pressed against his chest. My neck is resting on his right bicep while his arm is hooked around my chest. His left arm is wrapped around my waist, fingers pressing hard against my tender flesh, and his legs are completely intertwined with mine. His face is completely buried in my hair and with each exhale his lips brush against the nape of my neck.

 

There's pressure building on my bladder and my muscles start to twitch with the anxiety of feeling trapped. I move as slow and quietly as I can since I know he hasn't slept much over the past couple weeks. Once out of the confines of Dean, I go to the bathroom, give my teeth and hair a quick brush before tossing on some black pajama shorts and Dean’s discarded shirt from a few hours ago.

 

Dean shifts in his sleep, making an almost disappointed sound when he finds his arms empty. Rather than waking, he pulls a pillow against his chest and buries his face in it. 

 

I hold in the giggle that's bubbling in my throat and take in one last lingering look before closing the door behind me.

 

I pad barefooted down the stairs and through the living room, the dying fire and loud snoring of Sam catches my attention. His hair has fallen into his face and his long limbs are hanging awkwardly off the couch. 

 

Leaning over, I brush the soft strands off his forehead, being careful not to wake him. A shiver runs along my exposed skin, so I add a few logs to the fire, stoking it back to life.

 

Heading into the kitchen, I busy myself with making a pot of coffee and taking stock of the food situation as it brews on the counter. I really need to go grocery shopping. I fill a large mug and add milk before I stand at the back door and survey the newly fallen snow.

 

At first glance, it looks undisturbed, but as I look closer, there's a path about 20 feet from the porch of very large paw prints. Mithra?

 

Someone behind me clears their throat softly and it startles me; Sam.

 

I can't stop from smiling as I all but run to him after setting my coffee down. He wraps his long arms around me, my feet no longer touching the floor as he gives me a giant bear hug.

 

"Hey shorty, I'm glad to see you up and about." He plants a kiss on my cheek before setting me back on my feet.

 

I return the friendly kiss and reach up to brush his hair out of his eyes. "You have no idea how good it is to see you, Sam."

 

There's something in his dark eyes that worries me. I can't put my finger on it, but I have a feeling something isn't right. "You want a cup?"

 

He nods and takes a seat at the table. I slide into the chair next to him and bump his elbow with mine. He gives a chuckle, all but pushing me over with a return bump.

 

Over the next hour, we watch the sun rise higher in the sky and exchange small chit chat until I can't take it anymore. "Everything ok with you?"

 

He works hard to avoid my questioning gaze. "Yeah, why wouldn't it be?"

 

"You tell me. I can tell something's not right with you."

 

He draws in a long breath, letting it out slowly. "I'm worried about this deal with Crowley."

 

"We all are, Sam. But  that's not what's really bothering you, is it?"

 

He drains his cup and moves to the sink to rinse it out. His hands rest on the edge and his head falls forward, his voice is just above a whisper. "I'm lonely."

 

My heart breaks when I hear the sadness in his echo of a voice and I move quietly behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist, settling my cheek against his back. He lets me hold him for a few minutes before he moves to turn around, forcing me away. I lean back against a chair and wait for him to be comfortable enough to talk.

 

"I don't know if anyone has told you, but while Dean was in Purgatory, I was with someone. Someone I could have loved. It wouldn't have worked though, it turns out the husband she thought she lost in war, was alive and Dean had just come back. I was torn in two and I went to the person that needed me the most, my brother. We don't talk about the year he was gone, he has a lot of resentment towards me for not looking for him or trying to get him out. I… I should have tried harder, but I was so alone and I had no one to turn to –"

 

"Bobby?"

 

"I tried calling him a thousand times, but I thought he would look at me different for not being able to save my brother."

 

"You know he wouldn't have."

 

"Yeah, I know. And now Dean has you and he's so happy, the happiest I've ever seen him, and honestly I'm jealous. I want what you guys have. I want someone to spend the rest of my life with and not have to worry about all the evil that's out there."

 

"Sam, you know that no matter what, evil is out there. There will always be something that goes bump in the night or howls at the full moon. We are lucky enough to have the knowledge to be able to stop those things before they kill anyone."

 

"Lucky? If that's what you want to call it! I just… I want to stop this crazy schedule we seem to be on and just take a break."

 

"I get it Sam, trust me I do. And you'll find someone that makes your heart race and stop all at the same time."

 

"I think I already have."

 

"So call her."

 

"I – I can't just call her, it's been like, five years."

 

"Does Dean know about her?"

 

"He told me I should marry her."

 

"Do you know how she feels about you?"

 

"We kissed the last time we saw each other."

 

"Sam, you won't know until you call her, right? So, find her number, track her down, do whatever you need to do and get a hold of that woman."

 

A smile reaches his eyes for the first time in a long time. "Yeah, you think I should?"

 

"I  _ know _ you should. It's obvious you cared for her back then and you should have done something about it then, but for some reason, you didn't."

 

He leans forward and wraps his arms around me again, his lips press against the top of my head.

 

Someone clearing their throat loudly from the doorway startles us. "Stop hitting on my girl." Dean tries to sound upset, but there's laughter in his voice.

 

My heart starts to race when Sam releases me and I get a view of Dean. His hair is everywhere, both from the pillow and the time my fingers spent among them. Black boxers adorn his legs and he has pulled on a grey t-shirt.

 

Sam gives my shoulder a squeeze before heading back to the sitting room and I can feel the tension between the two brothers even though they give a nod and a smile to each other.

 

Dean struts toward me and my heart kicks into overdrive. He has an animalistic look in his eyes, reminding me of a tiger stalking its prey.

 

His lips are on mine in an instant and I'm responding with a fire I didn't know I had. We pull apart breathless and put our foreheads together.

 

"Morning." His voice is deep and full of desire.

 

"Morning to you, too."

 

"You snuck out on me."

 

"I didn't want to wake you."

 

"You didn't have to leave me."

 

"Dean, I had to pee."

 

A smile and laugh takes over his features and it's a good sight. "I guess that's a good enough excuse." 

 

He reaches around me to fill a cup with coffee, leaving his neck exposed, and I find the sight and smell of him is enough to get my blood flowing in all the right directions. I'm about to lay a kiss on his warm skin when he pulls away eliciting a small moan from me. I catch a smile spread across his full lips as he turns away, heading towards the table.

 

I let out a calming breath and realize there's something we need to talk about. "Dean, we need to call Crowley."


	25. A New Plan

Green eyes with anger ablaze meet mine and I swallow reflexively.

His brow furrows with frustration. "We don't even get one day."

"Dean, we don't even _have_ one day. Tomorrow is one week and Crowley is a stickler for the details."

He runs his hand over his face in frustration. "Yeah, yeah, yeah."

"This isn't something we can just blow off!"

"You think I don't understand that? I, of all people, know that this isn't something we can just blow off."

"I - I'm sorry Dean. I just meant that the sooner we get this thing done, the better."

"You know this is just the beginning. It won't ever be done unless he's dead."

"I know that, but right now, we don't have any other choice. I was thinking that I could make the exchange." If I thought he there was anger in his eyes before, I was greatly mistaken.

"NO!"

"Why not?"

"Because I won't let you."

"Dean, you're not my dad."

"This isn't up for discussion, Serenity. You're not meeting with Crowley."

"This isn't your decision to make Dean. We're in this situation because of me, because of my family."

"This isn't your fault."

"It's all my fault!"

"I made that deal with Crowley, not you."

"Damn it, Dean, why can't you just let me do this?"

He sighs softly as he stands up, moving to stand in front of me. He pushes some hair behind my ears before cupping my face in his hands. I watch as his eyes go from harsh and on fire, to soft and understanding. His breath is hot on my face as he talks, "I lost you once, Ren. I don't want to lose you again."

"You won't. I'm not some damsel in distress that doesn't know how to take care of herself. My parents were hunters and I worked side by side with Bobby for years. Hell, it's in my blood, my ancestors killed Dracula! I know what I'm doing, Dean. Please, please just let me do this."

He draws in a deep breath, holding it for a few heartbeats before blowing it out gently. He nods in a resigned fashion before resting his forehead against mine.

I rest my hands on the backs of his and squeeze gently, forcing him to look at me.

"I won't let you do this alone, but I'll stay out of sight and you signal me if it starts heading south. You got me?"

I nod softly, smiling hesitantly. "Thank you."

"Don't thank me until this is over."

My fingers dance along his jaw, pulling up when they reach his chin. My eyes wander over his face, taking in all his features. The sunlight peeking in through the window behind me accentuates the freckles across his nose and cheekbones, long eyelashes brush against his skin each time he blinks, there's a sparkle in his eyes, and his tongue keeps peeking out to wet his bottom lip the longer I stare at him.

There's an all too familiar flutter in my stomach as the atmosphere around us changes and I can't stop myself. I stand on my tip toes and close the distance between our faces, pressing my lips against his. I pull his full bottom lip between my teeth and almost giggle when his moan vibrates against my mouth.

He reacts exactly the way I knew he would. One hand dives through my hair, grabs a large amount, and holds my head against his. His other hand roams along my back, fingers sneaking under the hem of my borrowed t-shirt.

Someone behind Dean clears their throat just as his hands slide behind me to cup my butt and lift me up onto the counter. A growl climbs out of Dean as he rips his mouth away and he turns to see who is interrupting. "Hey Bobby."

My face grows warm with embarrassment, and I'm pretty sure it matches the red of my hair. I peek over Dean’s shoulder and feel the flush spread down my neck and chest.

"You two might wanna think about getting a room."

Dean’s chest vibrates as he chuckles. He kisses my forehead before reaching up to grab a coffee cup for Bobby.

I let out a soft sigh when I feel the strength of his body leave mine. I have to clear my throat before I can speak. "Bobby, this is a room."

The older man chuckles wryly, accepting his coffee from Dean with a curt nod. "Girl, this may be a room, but it's not the right room."

"Oh, I beg to differ Bobby, any room is the right room." Dean winks quickly just as I have the urge to reach over and smack him in the back of the head.

Bobby takes care of it for me. "Boy, you better watch it."

I all out laugh, covering my mouth when Dean glares at me. "I'm sorry, I can't help it!"

"You don't gotta apologize, he's always been like this."

I swear I can see a hint of pink touch Dean’s cheek as he takes a large drink of his coffee.

"Bobby, I am - uh going to be making the exchange with Crowley."

He just about spits a mouthful of coffee all over the table. "Over my dead body."

"You guys had the same reaction. But Bobby-"

"But nothin'! This ain't happening."

Standing next to Bobby, I reach out to touch his bearded cheek. A large lump forms in my throat when I see his eyes grow damp. I have seen this man cry only a handful of times. Once when his wife died and the next when he opened the safe room door, telling me I was now an orphan.

"Bobby, you are the next best thing to a father that I have, and I will love and respect you until the day I die, but I am doing this, with or without your blessing. I can do this. Please don't try and stop me."

Every emotion runs over his face. He leans his head into my hand and nods slowly, just once. "I am going to go and take a shower, get dressed and then we'll get a plan together for Crowley."

* * *

 

Sam walks out of the kitchen and nods at his older brother, the tension palpable. Serenity's words play over in his mind, _you'll find someone that makes your heart race and stop all at the same time._ This is exactly the way Sarah made him feel, even though it's been five years.

He fires up his computer and starts searching for her, almost frantically, like he needs to find her. Who knows, maybe he does need to. Maybe she is the one he was destined to be with.

It doesn't take long, fifteen minutes maybe. She has a Facebook account and his heart skips a beat when he sees her relationship status; single. She had moved from New York to Iowa a few years ago when she got married. One year later she became a widow when her husband died in a freak car accident.

Benjamin Parker was 35, an accountant at Malcolm, Hudson, and Parker for the last fifteen years, partner for seven. His car slid on an icy patch just down the road from their house. He had worked late that night and was rushing home; it was their anniversary and Sarah had cooked a romantic meal for two.

Upon impact, his car’s On*Star system dialed 911, ambulance and cop cars were dispatched to the site. He had bled out as they battled the icy and snow covered roads; a blizzard had struck the small town a few nights before, and they were still reeling from it.

Sarah hadn't been seen much since the accident, withdrawing into herself and her home. Her friends had tried contacting her on her Facebook and Twitter pages, but there had been little activity since the accident from Sarah herself; until six months ago.

New pictures of herself, uplifting quotes were shared from other pages, she seemed to be putting herself back out there. She was still living in Iowa, but the house had been sold. She lived in a one bedroom apartment on the other side of town, and had recently gotten a job at the local library.

Sam does a scan of the information section and there it is, her cell phone number and address. With slightly shaking hands, he punches the ten digits into his cell phone, holding his breath while the line connects. It rings several times before switching to voice mail.

A smile pulls at his lips when her voice greets him. "Hi, you've reached Sarah. I'm sorry I can't answer the phone right now, but if you'll leave your name, number, and a brief message, I'll call you back at my earliest convenience. Thank you."

"Uh, hi Sarah, it's Sam. Sam Winchester. I don't know if you remember me or not, but my brother Dean and I came to New York about five years ago, we helped you and your father with a painting. I - I know I never called you back after that, but a lot of things have happened. I know it's been a while, but I'm sort of in the area and would really like to see you. I'm in Minnesota on a case and I would really like to get together. Call me, please? 952-555-9376 my cell phone. Bye."

Bobby catches Sam’s eye as he walks through the room and toward the kitchen, clearing his throat when he reaches the doorway.

Sam leans back against the couch and tosses his phone on the cushion next to him, a loud sigh fills the room. "She's not going to call you back man, don't get your hopes up."

His eyes flutter closed as memories of the last time he saw her assault his mind. He feels himself start to tumble down the long tunnel of sleep and doesn't fight it.

Sarah, hair in braids and curls meets him on the other side with a bright smile and her arms open.

* * *

 

Sam is asleep as I walk through the room, the fire has almost died out, a few embers flickering here and there. He looks so much younger than his 32 years. All worry lines have been erased and I can tell he's dreaming, a pleasant one based on his smile.

I pull a blanket up over him. I know their schedule and they don't get near as much sleep as they should, though you won't hear them admit it. I give his hair a run through with my fingers before heading up to take a shower.

I'll admit it, I'm nervous about this meeting.

Crowley is the King of Hell and he can make you suffer, especially if you don't stick to the deal. He didn't make Dean or myself sign a contract or kiss to seal the deal, but I'm not one to back out of a deal either. I just hope that when we come up with a plan, we can stick to it with minimal to no injuries.

I dress in black skinny jeans and cream cashmere sweater. Socks are next before a pair of black Harley Davidson motorcycle boots. I decide to let my hair air dry before tying it up in a knot. I walk heavily down the stairs where and I'm greeted by Dean as he's sitting across from his sleeping brother.

The computer is open and there's an almost proud smile on his lips.

I set myself next to him, my head falling to his shoulder. A Facebook profile on the screen with a lovely girl with raven hair and a smile that can light up a room. "Ooo, she's pretty! Who is she?"

Dean nods over the laptop to his still sleeping brother. "A girl I told him he should marry."

"Sarah?"

"You know about her?"

"Sam told me a little bit, but not a lot. I think he could be in love with her."

Dean turns his head to lay a kiss on the top of my head, taking a deep breath of my vanilla shampoo. "You think so?"

"I do. What little he did say, there was something in his voice that said more than his words."

As if on cue, Sam starts to twitch in his sleep and softly whispers her name.

Dean and I exchange smiles before heading back to the kitchen where Bobby is nursing his third cup of coffee and we start talking about the exchange.


	26. When the Plan Fails

While Dean takes a shower and gets ready for his part in the plan, Bobby and I get the site outside ready for the summoning. There are several inches of snow that need to be removed to give us access to the dirt below for the trap. The snow is piled off to the side of the barn where the horses are showing signs of unease. It bothers me slightly as I dig the sigils into the ground with my demon blade.

Bobby busies himself with hiding the cars, we want to make it look like I am all alone, that the Winchesters and Bobby aren't hiding in the wings as my back-up. I was a Harker, this is something I can handle alone. Truth be told, I am scared out of my mind. Yes, I had done my fair share of hunting and striking down the big baddies in the dark, but this was my first time back in the game in ten years. I wasn't just dipping my toes in the water, I was jumping in head first.

* * *

 

Everything is in place as the sun is starting its descent in the west, purples and pinks decorate the snow heavy clouds. All three men stand in front of me as I place the last ingredient in the bowl. All I need to do is strike the match and drop it in.

Sam gives me a reassuring smile before pulling me into a long armed hug. With a press of his lips against the top of my head, he disappears into the house, and takes his place in the attic with his pistol. The clip is filled with our new favorite bullets, devil's traps carved into the tips.

Bobby wraps his arms around me next and presses his lips against my cheek, greying facial hair tickles my skin.

I return the hug and kiss with a forced soft laugh. "This isn't goodbye, old man."

"Not if I have anything to say about it. You know the signal?"

I pull back just enough to gaze into his eyes, they have seen far too much death and I can see the concern engraved in his features. "I got this, Bobby."

He nods curtly before walking around the trap and into the barn. There is a window in the middle where I had previously converted an unused stall for storage. Bobby has two pistols for coverage. One is full of the engraved bullets and the other was something new; holy water filled bullets. They were an experiment that Abraham and Johnathan had been working on, but had never perfected. Bobby had somehow found the time to put together twenty of them. He had ten, while Dean had the other half.

A blurry Dean stands in front of me and there's a lopsided smile on his face. His hands clasp mine at our sides and I try really hard not to let the tears fall, it's over if I give in to the fear wrapping its long fingered grasp around my heart.

As if he can feel what's going on inside, he presses his lips against my forehead. "We'll get through this, ok? Nothing's going to happen to you, not on my watch."

I swallow the lump in my throat and blink rapidly. "I know, but that doesn't mean I'm not scared shitless."

He releases my hands so he can slide them up my arms to cup my face. He stares hard into my eyes, making my heart skip a beat. "If he moves an inch outside of that trap, he's dead."

I nod against his grip before he leans down to kiss me fiercely, stronger than ever before and it leaves me breathless.

My lips are suddenly cold and I watch as he struts in through the front door, shutting off all the lights before taking his place in the sitting room. A rifle cartridge full of holy water rounds is in his grasp with the demon blade almost burning a hole in its sheath at his right hip.

I reach into my fitted green army jacket pocket for the hundredth time, the herb hasn't disappeared. In the other pocket, I have a small Ruger LCP 380 compact pistol loaded with devil's trap bullets, and my demon blade at the small of my back. I reach around the back of my head to tie up my hair into a high knot and blow out a long and deep breath. I was stalling.

With shaking hands I strike a match and toss it into the ingredient filled silver bowl.

With a bright flash and a gust of wind, Crowley appears in a cloud of black smoke and the sound of wings rubbing against rocks fills my ears.

"Hello, love."

I try and hide the disdain that takes hold of my tongue. "Crowley."

"It's good to see you up and about."

"Not sure I can say the same about you."

"Why the hostility, love?"

"I don't like dealing with the Devil."

His hands come up in defense. "Hold on now, I'm far from the Devil."

"Oh right, you're just a Crossroads demon that struck when the iron was hot and weaseled your way up to the throne."

A playful smile takes his lips hostage and he can't stop the chuckle bubbling in his throat. "You got it. Say, where are Moose, Squirrel, and wannabe Daddy?"

My stomach somersaults and I swallow hard at the bile suddenly making an appearance. "They headed back to South Dakota."

Crowley's left eyebrow about jumps off his forehead. "Really now? Good old Dean left his soul mate?"

"He had a few loose ends to tie up before moving in."

"So, you're all alone is what you're telling me?"

Maybe this isn't such a good idea. My hand twitches around the herb filled baggie in my pocket. "I guess so, yeah. Is that a problem for you?"

His eyes flick to each of the windows as if trying to peer into the darkness. "Not a problem for me. You, on the other hand-"

"A deal was made Crowley. I was under the assumption that we would walk away from this unscathed."

"You're young and naive."

I'm not liking the sound of this one little bit and I find that I want to scream for help or pull the trigger on the gun I have aimed at him inside my jacket. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Had any good dreams lately?"

My brain starts screaming at me to run, but I try and slam the door on the voice as I feel a wave of goosebumps flare along my skin. "Other than of having hot and wild sex with Dean, no."

"It was a werewolf that made you call Bobby, wasn't it?"

"I thought it was a werewolf, yes. Where is this going Crowley?"

"But it just so happens that it's not a werewolf, that it was my beast doing the killing."

"Alistair had her under his control." I feel my mind start to reel, figuring out what Crowley is saying, and I don't like where it's leading me.

A gravelly chuckle fills the dead air around us and it sets my hair on end. "He never had control of her. Yes, he wanted the throne and would do anything for it, but it wasn't ever his idea."

The previously swallowed bile makes another appearance and it's harder to swallow this time. "It was you."

"And the prize goes to Serenity." He claps his hands together in a mocking way.

"You knew that I had the herb."

"There have been whispers for almost 100 years that a Harker descendent was in possession of something powerful enough to bring Hell on Earth."

"You played us the entire time."

"It's what I do darling."

"What about the deal? You promised Dean that you would keep the beasts under control."

"And I plan on it, in the beginning."

"You sound awfully sure of yourself that you'll walk away from this."

"I don't want to sound cocky, but I'm sure I'll walk away from this. After all, you are, in your own words, utterly and completely alone."

"Well, I don't want to sound cocky, but I'm a Harker. I can take care of myself."

"Enough chit chat woman, do you have the herb? I am getting the feeling that you're stalling."

I grip the bag and pull it out of my pocket, showing it to him in the fading sunlight. "How do you want to do this?"

"Let me out of here and give it to me."

"You sound almost desperate."

"Are you trying to break a deal with the King of Hell? You won't like the results if you do."

"Go ahead and maim or kill me, I got an Angel on hold that will bring me back."

"Sorry love, but it's not your soul on the line. Wherever your boys are, they'll be mine if you muck this up."

My brain starts screaming at me to get it over with and hand him the bag. I start inching toward the trap and something about the way he smiles stops me dead in my tracks.

"Let me out of this trap first."

I can feel all four sets of eyes on me, three of them are looking down the barrel of a gun. It feels like my tongue is diving down my throat, I swallow so hard. I drag my boot clad toe across the trap line.

Crowley moves in a flash doing multiple things at once with his power. The herb has been removed and stuffed in his pocket, both of my hands are held at the small of my back with one of his hands, and we are enclosed in a flurry of snowflakes.

I struggle against his strength and find that he hasn't noticed I have a firm grip on the Ruger in my left hand.

I hear the men yelling from their hiding places and there are shots being fired in our direction; missing their destinations. I also hear the faint and muffled sound of doors being pounded on.

Crowley's left hand is spread out next to him, he's holding all their exits closed.

I hiss through my teeth as his fingers dig tighter into my wrists. "Let me go!"

Crowley's dark eyes move lazily over my face. "You got spunk. I see why Dean's fallen in love with you."

"You got your herb Crowley."

"Yes, I do. What's to say I don't have a stipulation to our previously made deal?"

"And what would that be?"

"You."

There's a look of something on his face that twists my stomach and I have to hold back the ever present bile.

"I'd kill myself before I let that happen." My heart has joined the bile, the pair work up my throat as I bend my left wrist enough that the barrel of the gun presses against my jacket. I had removed the safety and cocked it before putting it in my pocket right before the summoning.

"I can be pretty persuasive you know."

It's now or never, this has to end and I'm the only one that can end it. "Me too."

My eyes clamp shut as I whisper something that is lost in the breeze of the snow storm surrounding us. It hurts my hand like hell, but I squeeze the trigger, trying not to scream in pain as I feel the bullet rip through my back and out my chest. My eyes fly open just in time to see the shock register on Crowley's face.The bullet slams into his chest and we fall to the ground. His hand is still holding mine against my back as the bullet has rendered him unable to move.

His accented voice is screaming obscenities as the snow starts to slowly drift to the ground, his power having been taken from him.

There are doors slamming open and deep male voices coming from all directions around me.

I've been shot before but never by my own hand. I think I might have miscalculated where I had aimed the barrel since I'm losing a lot more blood that I should be. For a doctor, you think I would know where not to shoot myself. I drop my eyes to the ground below, watching as the deep crimson blood starts to mix in with the pure white snow.

Dean is the first to reach me and works frantically to free me from Crowley's grasp. He turns me over onto the ground and presses his hands against my open wound, blood pours through his fingers. "What did you do?!"

"What I had to do. He wasn't going to leave without me." I feel weak. My instincts kick in and there are a thousand things running through my mind as to how I'll survive this.

"CAS!" Dean’s voice is filled with panic as the name spills over his lips.

Sam and Bobby have somehow managed to free my hands from Crowley. I hear bones break as fingers are bent backwards and more obscenities fill the night air.

Dean's voice is tight. "Sam, go and see what's taking him so long. Bobby, get towels. We need to get her downstairs and see what damage she did."

My heavy eyelids flutter closed a few times and before I know it, Bobby and Dean have packed towels against my wounds and are carrying me into the house and down to my makeshift basement ER. The pain radiates from the entry and exit wounds is excruciating, but for some reason, I'm not screaming.

Sam comes thundering down the stairs moments after I'm laid out on the table. "He's gone."

"Son of a bitch! Looks like we're going to have to do this." The sound of my clothes ripping open is the last thing I hear before the darkness consumes me whole.


	27. An Ally

The bed that Sam and Dean had placed the exhausted Cas in, is now empty and the shock shakes Sam to the core. Cas has disappeared before, but Sam had also never seen Cas in this bad of shape in the three years they had known the Angel. Sam runs as fast as his long legs will take him down the two flights of stairs after checking every other available room and finding nothing. Not that he really expected to.

He is in pretty good shape and should have been nowhere near out of breath, but fear had dug its fingers into his heart, and it seems to suck the air out of his lungs. He's almost breathless when he stumbles into the basement. "He's gone."

Dean and Bobby work furiously to stop the flow of blood pouring out of Serenity's wounds. "Son of a bitch! Looks like we're going to have to do this. Sam, go and get that bastard locked up. After you're done, can you find her phone? She might have someone that can help us with this. I think this just might be beyond our abilities." With a growl, Dean rips Serenity's jacket and previously cream cashmere sweater off. They fall to the floor with a wet smack.

Sam is up the stairs 3 at a time, skidding to a stop next to Crowley's body.

His accented voice fills the cool evening air. "What the HELL is going on?!"

"You messed with the wrong woman." Despite the severity of the situation, a chuckle works its way up Sam's throat as he moves Crowley into the house.

Crowley is as stiff as if someone had placed him in liquid nitrogen. Sam grunts, this is really a two man job. It's like moving a talking statue, all dead weight and heavy.

"Wait, where are we going?"

"I don't know yet. I was thinking of starting a fire and throwing you in it."

"WHAT?! You can't do that. I'm the K-"

"King of Hell, yeah we know. You don't seem to let anyone forget it."

"We had a deal!"

"And apparently, you tried to break it first."

"Bitch shot me. What the hell kind of bullets do this? I know damn well she doesn't have the Colt."

"No, because then you'd be dead."

"Answer me!"

Crowley's heels hit each step with a loud thud as Sam drags him up the stairs of the porch, followed by the stairs leading up to the second story. The attic seems like a nice place for him. "Devil's trap carved into the tip. You're lucky that's the only bullet you got hit with."

"What else have you Winchesters stuffed up your sleeves?"

"I could tell you, but then I'd have to kill you."

The attic is dark and stuffy and it smells of mold and dust. "What are you going to do, Moose? Leave me here and take me out at Christmas?"

Sam moves some old boxes full of photo albums away from the wall before leaning Crowley against it. He does a few test pushes just to make sure the demon won't fall over. "It's not up to me what happens to you. The ball's in Deans court now."

The door is pulled tight behind the youngest Winchester, leaving Crowley in the dark. His mind works furiously as he tries to figure a way out of this. He can feel the power humming off the two devil's traps; the bullet currently lodged next to his heart and the one below his feet. He is well and truly screwed. The demon lets out a primal scream full of rage, frustration, and a little fear mixed in there. It's been a long time since that emotion has made its presence known.

Serenity’s cell phone isn't too hard to find since it is charging in the kitchen. Sam scrolls furiously through her contacts. There are a lot, given her profession now and prior, it doesn't surprise Sam all that much.

There is one that stands out, Ian McShane HE. There is an information section under his name with the words hunting emergency. Sam presses the button and holds his breath as the line connects.

"Detective McShane speaking, how can I help you?" His voice is thick with an Irish accent and it takes Sam by surprise.

"Uh hi, you don't know me, but I'm calling about Serenity Hatfield."

"Who is this and what's wrong with her?"

"My name is Sam Winchester and there's been a shooting."

Papers shuffle in the background as Ian pulls his feet of his desk. "You at her house?"

"Yes."

Ian lowers his voice as he throws on his jacket, giving his fellow detectives a wave as they tease him about being whipped. "Demon?"

"It's complicated, but yeah. She's losing a lot of blood and I'm not sure we can take care of it."

"Give me five minutes." Ian disconnects the call and runs out to his unmarked squad. His tires spin on the snow covered asphalt as he pulls out of the station.

Sam takes off his jacket before heading into the basement, rolling up the sleeves on his shirt.

Bobby has taken off his jacket and blue baseball cap. The front of his shirt is splashed with blood and there is an unreadable expression on his face. He has hung a pint of A-positive blood and is working to get the needle in a vein.

Dean’s jacket is resting next to Serenity's blood soaked clothes and he is doing all he can to get the bleeding to stop. "Dammit, I can't see anything. We need Cas!"

"Dean, I looked everywhere, he's not here. I stuffed Crowley in the attic and if we can hang on for a few minutes, someone will be here." Sam stands next to his brother and holds towels against the river of blood.

Less than five minutes later, there's heavy footsteps above them and they seem to know where they're going as they run towards the basement. Black dress shoes, black suit pants and lilac purple shirt come into view.

Ian is holding a black doctor’s bag and half jogs over to the bed. He takes a quick look around the room and surveys the instruments that Serenity had previously stocked the room with.

He nods at Sam, Bobby, and Dean as he rolls up his sleeves. "Ian McShane, what do we have?"

Sam nodes at Ian. "A devil's trap deal gone bad. She shot herself through her back in order to take him down."

"Since it's a through and through, I assume the bullet is in the demon."

"Yes."

"Gun?"

"Ruger LCP 380 compact."

"One of her favorites. Alright gentlemen, let me have a look."

Ian takes over with an air of confidence that anyone could feel, he knows what he was doing, but he isn't cocky about it. Five years as a medic in Iraq and Afghanistan had given him the confidence that he could handle any situation.

The three men aren't completely useless, they are extra hands. Ian can use them, and he does. It takes longer than Ian is comfortable with, but he finally finds the source of all the blood, the bullet ripped through her liver.

With the help of the extra hands, Ian repairs her liver with minimal removal. There are a few other minor cuts to organs and he quickly repairs those on his way out, stitching her stomach, and back is the most tedious part of the surgery.

Bobby hung three pints of blood throughout the surgery, standing back when he isn't needed. He feels helpless and briefly wonders if this was how Serenity had felt when he was in her place after the Hell beast attack.

Ian finishes the last stitch and just about pushes Dean out of the way so he can check the rest of her vitals, he hadn't had a chance when he first arrived. She has the machines, wires, and sensors needed, so he busies himself with attaching them all in the right spots.

Dean, Sam, and Bobby move to the back wall and wash up as best they can. It's going to take more than a rinse under the faucet to get rid of all the blood.

As much as it pains Dean, he knows that hanging around will do nothing to speed her recovery. If only Cas would answer their calls. The four men lumber up the stairs and into the kitchen after Ian covers Serenity's half-naked form with a thin sheet.

"Thank you for calling me, Sam. I don't think she would have made it if you hadn't. How did you know to call if she was unconscious?"

"In her phone, she had hunting emergency listed under your name."

A small smile tugs at his lips. "Well, it's been awhile since she's had an emergency she couldn't handle."

Dean leans against the counter and sizes up this Ian guy. He's just a hair taller than Sam and has a head full of jet black hair with a few streaks of grey starting at his side burns. He has crystal blue eyes, and Dean can tell that he's done his fair share of working out.

"Where'd you learn to do all that?"

Ian turns his head toward Dean after zipping his bag closed. "I was stationed in Iraq and Afghanistan for five years as a field medic. I've been in the states for almost twenty years."

"How do you two know each other?"

"Why do I feel like I'm being interrogated?"

Bobby pipes up for the first time. "Because we're her family and we ain't never heard of you."

Ian turns his gaze to the older man as his brain digs through a rolodex of information. "Bobby Singer, right? Yeah, she's talked about you before."

"It's a shame I can't say the same."

"Are you telling me you guys don't have people that you would contact in an emergency? Someone that no one else knows about? I thought as much. Look, we met shortly after I moved up here. My parents live just in town and are getting too old to do things on their own. After I left the Army, I took a job as a detective with the local police force, we're a small group. We met on a case and she found out I had medical history, in the field medical history that could help in a situation like this. The more we talked, the more she let me know about her family history. Specifically the hunting side. I know that you two haven't talked to each other in a while, but she talked about you all the time. You two on the other hand... Sam, I spoke with you on the phone, but I'm afraid we haven't been introduced." Ian holds his hand out to Dean.

"Dean Winchester, the older brother."

Ian nods after Dean releases his hand. "It's a pleasure. Look, I hate to do this, but I have to head home. When you called it was near the end of my shift and my wife is probably wondering where I am. I'm sure you guys know how to follow up with her care given you're in the same profession? Call if anything happens." He turns on his heel and walks with a purpose out the front door. Headlights flare to life and slowly start to disappear down the long driveway.

The three men stare at each other in the sudden absence of the Ian.

Dean abruptly shakes his head and storms outside, the cool air a welcome reprieve; it pushes down the fear creeping its way up his spine. He can't lose her again, he just got her back. "Cas? I know you're worn out from the yesterday, but we need you. It's not urgent but she could die, again. Why'd you disappear man? Is everything ok? Please… please be ok, we need you."

* * *

 

Castiel barely remembers falling down the long tunnel of darkness after putting everything he had into rebuilding Serenity from the inside out. Of all the people he has healed and brought back from the dead, this was the most exhausting. He dug deeper than ever before just to put her soul back where it belonged. When Death did it to Sam a couple years ago, he did it with such ease. Castiel was almost jealous.

The freshly mowed green grass tickles the cheek of his face and he fights the urge to slap away the offending blades. He can still hear the mower as it moves further away from him. There are birds singing behind him and their almost obnoxious song pulls him from his slumber. He doesn't remember ever being this… crabby before. He knows he did too much and he silently questions why God would have him do something this big. Why didn't he just do it? It's not like he's busy or anything.

"I could have taken care of it, yes Castiel." The velvet-like voice caresses Castiel's ears and he jerks himself off the ground, whirling around until he finds the source; God. He is standing several feet away. The sun is bright and overbearing as it spreads its heat through this particular Heaven. A sun hat is perched on top of his head and there is a pair of large rimmed, black sunglasses covering his eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be Castiel. Come, walk with me."

"I'm terribly tired."

"I know you are. Come." He turns away from the Angel and without waiting for him to catch up, He starts walking among the freshly fallen grass clippings, almost lazily.

Castiel catches up to God and is soon matching his long strides. "Why am I here?"

"You reached the bottom of your reserves."

"My reserves?"

"Yes, you used every last bit of your powers to resurrect that woman."

"I was instructed to. You instructed me to."

"I did, I even gave you a boost."

"Sir?"

"Before you left I touched your shoulder and put some of my power into you."

"But why?"

"You would have died had I not and we cannot afford to lose an Angel like yourself."

"I'm flawed and have grown too attached to my charges."

"We are all flawed."

A thought suddenly pops into Castiel’s mind. "Samandriel, Sir, what of him?"

"I pulled him out of the ring of holy fire. He is being... dealt with accordingly."

"Will he be removed from the garrison?"

"No, no, nothing like that. He's just going to be on probation for a while."

"Where are we going?"

"Nowhere in particular, I just like the smell of the grass after it's been cut. It rained last night."

"How long will it be before my powers are restored?"

"It's hard to say. A day, a month... it all depends on you."

"On me?"

"If you stay up here while your body restores itself, it should take a day. If you leave, it will take longer. Being here in Heaven is like recharging a battery, it only works while plugged in. You're plugged in here."

"They are supposed to meet with Crowley, sir."

"They are."

"What if something goes wrong?"

"Again, that's up to you. Your healing will be delayed if you leave and if you try to use your powers, it could kill you."

Castiel could feel his vessels heart sink in his chest. Death. He could die if he were to use his powers. Nothing like this had happened to him before and he feels... afraid.

God stops walking and turns to face the Angel, large hands rest on his shoulders. "I understand it might sound like a threat, Castiel, but it is not meant to be as such. I am just trying to explain things in a way you will understand. Death is probable."

"I understand, Sir. Thank you."

The face of God is washed with love and caring for Castiel a moment before he turns away. "I understand there is a Heaven you prefer above all others. Go there, maybe it will help speed your recovery." God disappears on a breeze, leaving Castiel alone to ponder his next move.

Castiel is in his preferred Heaven before the thought even finishes in his mind, he lands on his knees, and it pulls the air from his lungs. He really is scraping the bottom of the barrel. Not that he thought God was lying, but maybe exaggerating slightly?

The Angel rolls from his knees to his back, feeling the bright sun against his face, closing his eyes against the brightness. He feels his body relax in the warmth. The smell of green grass and dirt fill his nostrils, and just as he's about to fall asleep, the deep voice of Dean invades.

He doesn't answer, he doesn't appear in Serenity's backyard, he just gives into his weakness, and falls asleep.


	28. End of the Line

Dean is wired, there's still so much adrenaline pumping through his bloodstream, he's not exactly sure when he'll come down from this high. There are two things he wants to do, put a bullet from the Colt in Crowley's forehead and crawl in next to Serenity while she sleeps. He really can't do either because killing Crowley will mean that an interrogation is impossible and if he were to crawl into the hospital bed, he could do more damage than good.

He stays outside in the bitter cold for almost an hour waiting for Cas to show up. By the time he walked in the house, he can't feel his toes or fingers. The double shot of whiskey and an hour sitting in front of the fire warms him up in no time.

Sam falls onto the couch across from his older brother with an exhausted sigh, long legs perched on the table between them. He had just finished cleaning up the bloody floor in the basement as best he could. "I hate to bring this up now, but what do you wanna do with Crowley?"

Dean growls deep in his throat and throws back another shot of the amber liquid. "Kill the son of a bitch."

"Is that what you really want to do?"

"What I really want to do isn't something that should be talked about."

"If you want my opinion, I don't think we should kill him."

Deans eyes reflect the flames and flare with anger. "I didn't ask your opinion."

"Dean, you're angry, I get that, but what will happen if we kill him? He may be a lying pain in our ass, but can you imagine the next one in line? A war bigger than the Apocalypse could break out, and then what?"

"You want to just let him go?"

"I didn't say that. What if… what if we just talk to him?"

A cold laugh fills the room. "Talk. With Crowley. About what? About his behavior? About lying? He's not a 5 year old kid, Sam, he's in charge of Hell."

"Yeah, but he's not going anywhere. He can't leave, nothing will come in here and get him. We're stuck with him until we – you decide what to do."

"I don't need to decide anything tonight."

"No you don't, but you shouldn't put it off too much longer. We don't know how they'll react below if they find out Crowley's out of commission."

Dean sighs in resignation and runs a large hand over his face. He's exhausted, far too many things have happened in a short span of time and he doesn't know what to do. "Let me sleep on it, ok?"

* * *

 

Bobby hangs around after helping Sam clean the floor and pulls up a chair next to Serenity. The monitor to his right beeps softly with her heart rate, which seems a little high; not that he's a doctor or anything. He grabs her limp hand in his and presses a kiss against her cool skin. Not even 24 hours later and they were on the brink of losing her again.

At least her friend was able to help them this time, the surgery seems to have gone well. The longer Bobby sits downstairs, the less he hears the rhythmic beeping of her heart rate. Her skin color has improved drastically compared to an hour ago, her cheeks have just a hint of pink to them.

"You remember when you were five and you got lost in the salvage yard? Your mama thought you were sleeping, but you had other plans, you had seen a bunny and you wanted to hold it. You snuck out the back door like a ninja. The squeakiest screen door on the planet and you got out. We couldn't find you for three hours and I thought Martha was going to have a heart attack. We must have yelled and screamed until we were hoarse. The house was destroyed after we tore through all the rooms. Alec was about to call the cops when Karen found you at the back property line and you were playing with this baby white bunny. You said it was all alone, that it had no parents and how desperately it wanted you to be its new mommy. I had never been so scared in my life, I can't imagine how your parents felt. I can't…. I lost you a week ago, Ren. I can't lose you again. Dean can't lose you again. I don't think you realize just how much that boy loves you; how much we all love you."

With a kiss to her forehead and a tuck of some loose hair behind her ear, Bobby pulls a thicker blanket over the thin sheet since it's the beginning of winter and there's a chill in the basement. With one last check to her saline IV, he heads up the stairs and takes a quick shower.

Dean and Sam have passed out on the couches and a lively fire heats up the small room. Bobby decides to go and give their guest a visit.

Crowley hasn't moved, not that he has much of a choice, but it's not for lack of trying. Every muscle, though rigid, burns with exhaustion. His broken fingers don't even move, they just hang there; frozen like icicles. Bobby can't stop the smirk as he steps in front of the demon.

"It's about bloody time someone came up here."

"Oh, I'm sorry Crowley. Is something wrong?"

"Don't get me started!"

"It seems I'm too late for that."

"Your bitch shot me."

"Watch it!"

"Why should I watch it? She's the one who pulled the trigger."

"She wouldn't do it without good reason."

"She's too touchy."

"What did you say to her?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me Crowley, not right now."

"How is the thorn in my side?"

"She'll live."

"That's a shame."

"You're a bastard, you know that?"

"So I've been told." Bobby reaches into each of Crowley's jacket pockets and pulls out the herb filled baggie, dangling it in front of his face.

"Who's the bastard now?"

"What did you tell her?"

"The wolf attacks were planned."

"We figured that, by Alistair."

If Crowley could shake his head, he would. "Not by him, by me. There have been whispers of this herb and I was determined to have it. Mithra was allowed out for one week a month for just over a year. I was hoping you guys would get wind of it and maybe help find the herb in the process. I didn't think Alistair would go to the extremes he did with your girl and I am truly sorry about that."

"It's a little too late to apologize for it, Crowley. He killed her."

"But you got your precious Angel to bring her back."

"This deal, our souls for the herb, why try and break it?"

"I was just trying to have some fun with the girl. I didn't think she'd shoot ME!"

"She didn't just shoot you, she put a bullet through her liver and almost died."

"Let me go."

"Or what?"

"Or else there's going to be a riot that will spill out of Hell and onto your precious Earth. You don't want that, do you?"

"If we agree to let you go, the herb is no longer on the table, and you don't ever bother us again."

A growl rumbled in Crowley's chest and out into the attic. "Agreed."

"I'll discuss it with the boys in the morning. In the meantime, don't go anywhere."

Bobby pulls the attic door closed behind him, curses from the demon fill the room, muffled behind the thick wood. He stuffs the baggie into his pocket as he moves down to the main floor and into the old office at the back of the house. He's not sure what he's looking for, but he buries himself in book after book until he hears Dean’s sock covered feet shuffle across the floor and towards the basement.

* * *

 

Dean all but stumbles down the stairs, heavy and tired legs carry him to the hospital bed. He checks the machine, no alarms had gone off during the night and all her numbers are looking good; as far as he can tell anyway. The saline bag is dry so he changes it before pulling a chair out of the corner. He clasps her smaller hand in his, unable to stop himself from resting his cheek against her thigh. Her chest moves slowly with each breath and remembers their night wrapped around each other and it brings a much needed smile to his face.

His eyes lose focus as his brain starts rattling off a million miles a minute.

Where is Cas? Is he still alive? Did something happen to him that can't be fixed? What about Crowley? How are they going to get out of this? Are they going to have to kill him? If they kill him, who will take the throne? How much worse can Crowley could they be? How would they get Crowley out of the house since there's a devil's trap beneath his feet? Maybe the trap on the bullet and the one in each floor would cancel each other out. As long as he had the bullet in him, they could remove him from the main trap? It is worth a shot, after they decide what they were going to do.

Bobby shakes Dean’s shoulder and it pulls him out of his daydream. "We gotta talk."

Dean nods and rises to press his lips against Serenity's forehead before following the older man up the stairs where Sam is waiting in the kitchen; his cell phone against his ear.

"Let me finish talking with Bobby and Dean and I'll call you back, ok?"

"Take your time, Sam, I'm not going anywhere." Sarah disconnects the call with a smile on her lips. Sam Winchester. She hasn't thought about him in a while. There was a time where she thought nothing but him and waited day after day for him to call, but he never did. Two nights ago she had received a voicemail and she couldn't stop her heart from trying to climb out of her chest. It has been a long time since she felt this good.

The three men sit and Bobby places the baggie on the table. "There's a new deal on the table and Crowley has reluctantly agreed."

Sam and Dean exchange confused looks before Dean speaks up. "You talked to him?"

"Yeah, you boys were asleep."

"So what's the new deal?"

"The herb is ours to do with what we like. I suggest burning it. We let Crowley go and he doesn't bother us again."

"And he agreed?"

"As much as it pained him to, yeah."

Sam arches his eyebrow. "You didn't do anything to persuade him, did you?"

"As much as I wanted to, no. It's up to you Dean. I would say it's up to Ren, but she's out of commission right now and I don't want him in this house any longer than he needs to be."

Dean's head falls forward and it pulls a loud sigh out of him. He rests his elbows on the table, his face is covered by his hands and it's more than a few minutes before he speaks again. "Yeah, ok. Let's get this bastard out of the house."

* * *

 

I’m standing in a field of knee high grass, it's oddly velvet soft and swaying in the whisper of a breeze. I look up to the sky, but there's no sun, moon, or stars; only grey clouds. The entire field seems to be covered in fog as well. My feet start moving on their own accord as I look out at the field.

I'm not sure how far I walk until I can see some forms in the distance. They are running and calling out to one another. I find myself drawn to them and the closer I get, the brighter the sun gets.

There are three children running amok in the field. The oldest child looks to be about 5, he has spiky strawberry blonde hair with a splash of freckles across his nose, cheeks and forehead. His eyes are a brilliant green, so lively and full of life.

The middle child is closer to 3 and she has hair the color of the darkest red rose that looks as soft as silk, she has freckles also; though not as many as her older brother. Her eyes look like someone dipped a paintbrush into a nebula of some kind; green and blue mix together.

The baby looks like she's about 1, stumbling after her older brother while clutching to her older sister's hand. Her hair is the color of butterscotch and probably feels like feathers between your fingertips. She has eyes the color of the darkest emerald and a gap toothed grin as they run through the tall grass.

Their parents wander almost lazily behind the children. They are holding hands, their fingers intertwined and they are standing as close to one another as physically impossible. The woman has long fire red hair that is blowing behind her in the breeze, her head rests on his shoulder since she's a few inches shorter than he. The man has dark blonde hair that looks like someone has just run their fingers through it without looking messy.

The sun is bright and hinders my ability to see who they are, but I have this feeling deep in my gut that I know exactly who they are. Once they are within spitting distance, I can see their faces and it's like looking into a mirror; it's Dean and me. A few years older, but nothing's changed about our appearance except for the addition of children. I find myself trying to wave to them, but they can't see me, not that I am expecting them to.

The family moves past me and heads off into the distance, laughter carries on the breeze and dances in my ears.

My heart starts to pound like a jackhammer and without thinking another thought, I turn back the way I came and run. My hair whips behind me as I run fast, faster than I've ever run, as if there is something nipping at my heels. I realize I'm crying as I run, the tears push into my ears and I feel a goofy grin take over my lips; this is the happiest I've felt in a long time. I have to get back to Dean, I can't give into this injury. I can't – I won't die, again.

There's a light and warmth that surrounds me as I reach the spot I first arrived and the moment my bare feet touch the patch of dirt my eyes jerk open.

There is a light filtering down the stairs from the kitchen. The weight of the blanket is suddenly too much and I push away the thick material. I sit up slowly, the stitches are fresh and I don't want to pull anything. Taking a look down, I see that an adhesive has been placed over the thick thread. My fingers find the power button on the monitor before I busy myself with removing all the sensors that are plastered against my chest, the IV is next. My still boot clad feet hit the floor below and I feel my knees start to buckle. Catching myself on the bed I suck in a hiss of air between my teeth.

I'm still wearing the jeans, but no shirt, it's soaked in blood, along with my favorite jacket. I rummage through a closet along the back wall, finding a black zip up sweatshirt and struggle to get it on before I head up toward the light and hushed voices. It feels like many minutes pass before I reach the top stair and pull the door completely open.

Dean looks troubled, as if the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders. His head falls forward and it pulls a loud sigh out of him. He rests his elbows on the table, his face is covered by his hands. "Yeah, ok. Let's get this bastard out of the house."

Both Sam and Bobby nod in agreement before I step out of the shadows. Their eyes all but bug out of their heads when they realize that I'm up and moving around.

Dean, seeing they're reacting to something behind him, spins in his chair. His eyes are wide with concern and surprise, and in the next second, he's in front of me. His arms encompass me gently and I can't stop from leaning against his chest, exhaustion tugging at me.

"What are you doing out of bed?" His breath is hot against my ear as he whispers.

I shrug and the movement sends my nerves into overdrive. "I needed to find you. I needed to come back."

"Come back from where?"

"I don't know, I just know I wasn't here and I needed to be."

Dean pulls back, his crystal eyes stare long and hard into mine. "You scared me, you know that?"

The effort of lifting my hand to rest on his face almost takes me down. The stubble of his 2 day old beard tickles the palm of my hand. "How else would we have taken him down, huh? He had you guys trapped and I let him out of the trap. Not you, me. I had to be the one to stop him. What would you have done?"

He presses his face against my hand before turning to kiss the soft skin and he nods softly. "Probably the same thing."

Dean helps me sit down at the table while Sam gets a large glass of water and Bobby just watches with disapproval etched across his face.

"You shouldn't be up."

"Bobby, I’m fine."

"I don't care."

"You gonna make me lie back down?"

"We have sedatives."

"Bobby Singer, is that how you get the ladies?"

He tries to stop the smile pulling at his lips but ends up giving in. "It's how I got Karen, but you didn't hear it from me."

Sam and Dean join in on the laughing and even though it feels like I'm ripping my skin apart, I can't stop.

When the laughter fades, I clear my throat gently. "You're going to let him go, aren't you?"

Dean squeezes my hand reassuringly. "Bobby made a new deal. We keep the herb and he leaves us alone."

"For how long? You really think he'll go that easy?"

"However long we decide. We have the Colt and the demon blades if it absolutely comes down to it."

I reach for the baggie and play with the seal. "Someone want to get a bowl and hand me a lighter?"

Sam hands me a small silver mixing bowl from above my stove while Dean hands over his every present silver plated zipp-o lighter. Bobby reaches into a jacket hanging off the back of his chair and slides a small bottle of lighter fluid across the table.

I spray a very small amount of liquid into the herb remnants and blink furiously as I set it ablaze. "Alright, let's get this son of a bitch out of my house."

* * *

 

Sam, Bobby, and Dean work together to get Crowley out from the attic and somehow they manage to get him out the door without too much hassle from the trap.

I have the colt in my side pocket, a needle nose pliers, and a surgical blade in my right hand; both of which have been doused with holy water. The men carry Crowley out toward the edge of the property line, which is still mangled and destroyed.

Sam and Bobby lower the demon to the ground before Dean hovers over him with the instruments I have just handed him. He lowers himself within an inch of his face and all but sneers. "You ever come near here again and we will shoot to kill, you got me?"

Crowley growls in response. "I got you, mate."

Dean’s head dips before he moves down and rips open the blood stained black button up shirt. The buttons pop off and fall to the snow below before Dean slices into the ragged flesh. Metal burns away the skin while he cuts and digs the bullet out of the demon's chest.

No sooner than Dean removes the mangled bullet, Crowley is up and has his hands wrapped around Dean’s throat.

"Uh, uh, uh boys and girl. Did you really thing I would go that easy?" I'm not in Crowley's line of vision and that is something we did on purpose.

Sam and Bobby hold up their hands defensively as I remove the Colt from my pocket, pull the hammer back, and rest the barrel against the back of his neck. "Do you really think we're that stupid?"

"What are you gonna do, shoot me?"

"Not this time Crowley. Let him go or the next thing I do is squeeze the trigger on this lovely Colt."

I see Crowley's fingers twitch on Dean's neck before he smiles.

Fingers slowly start to unravel and rise up defensively as he turns around to face me. I keep the gun leveled and find it's aimed just below his chin as he completes his 180 degree turn. "You're crazy you know that?"

"What can I say? I'm a Harker, we're all crazy. Now, there is no more herb, I burned it. So there's nothing for you here anymore. Get. Off. My. Property." My voice is thick with anger and I know he can see it in my eyes.

He inclines his head and disappears before my very eyes. I swear that's something I'll never get used to.

I release the hammer and just about collapse.

Dean catches me before my knees touch the snow. He carefully lifts me in his arms after handing Sam the Colt, and the four of us head back to the house. Relieved that we are no longer in any immediate danger, I give in to the exhaustion that's tugging at my soul and pass out before we are even halfway up the property.


	29. Recovery

2 weeks pass slowly as I heal from the self-inflicted gunshot. I take a much needed leave of absence from work, they tell me that my position will be held for me whenever I decide to return. Along with inheriting the house, I inherited a small fortune my ancestors started, adding to when they could.

 

Ian stops by every couple days to check up on me and make sure I'm abiding by the rules. Dean acts different when Ian is around, like he's the man of the house and Ian should watch his step.

 

On his last visit, I all but force Dean out of the room before I pull the cotton t-shirt over my head, with Ian's assistance. Ian gives a slight shake of his head. "Overprotective much?"

 

"Who, Dean? Maybe a bit, he's more worried about me than anything."

 

"It's just a bullet wound, you didn't die or lose a limb."

 

"This time."

 

His thick eyebrow arches high on his forehead. "What do you mean ‘this time’?"

 

_ Crap _ . "The day before this," I motion to my wound, "I was dead and I had been for almost a week."

 

Confusion is in every inch of his face. "Then how-"

 

"He's an angel and his name is Castiel, we call him Cas."

 

"Wait, you guys know an angel? An honest to goodness real life angel."

 

"Honest to goodness." I suck in a breath between my teeth as his fingertips brush against the sensitive skin.

 

"Sorry."

 

"It just tickles."

 

"Well, it looks like you've been sticking to your restrictions, there's no tearing around the stitches and it looks like they're ready to come out. You ready?"

 

I nod a little enthusiastically and follow his instructions to lie down on the bed so he can remove the stitches. It's not like I'll be able to go bare back horse riding in the next week or so, but this means I can move a little more freely and not have to worry about clothes snagging. It doesn't take long before I'm pulling my shirt on and walking him out.

 

He pulls on his black winter trench coat. "You still need to take it easy, alright?"

 

"I know the drill. This isn't my first hunting injury."

 

He leans down and gives me a quick hug. "Call if you need anything."

 

I don't even get the front door closed against the chilly winter air when I feel someone else in the room with me; Dean.

 

His features have softened considerably now that Ian isn't in the house anymore. His shoulder is resting against the door frame and he has his hands stuffed into the pockets of his tattered blue jeans. "You get the all clear from Irish?"

 

I force myself to swallow as I let my eyes travel lazily up his form and I notice that I started to bite my bottom lip. His eyes are ablaze with something when mine finally meet his. My bare feet carry me to him until I'm standing inches from him, but not touching and I think it might just drive me crazy. "I still have to take it easy but he took the stitches out."

 

I hear his breath catch in his throat when I don't touch him. "How easy is easy?" His eyes dart from my eyes to my lips and back again while his tongue slides out to wet his lips.

 

"I'll let you know." With a growl from deep within, I lunge at him, closing the distance. I throw my arms around his neck and drive my fingers through his hair, tugging at it none too gently. Our lips crash together and it sends a spark flying down my spine. It's been 2 weeks since we've been together and every inch of me misses the feel of him. 

 

His arms snake around my waist giving his hands room to spread out and roam wherever they want. They seem to be everywhere and not touching enough at the same time.

 

We stand in the doorway for what seems like an eternity until I feel his hands squeeze their way down my back and around my ass. He lifts me off the floor and I wrap my legs around his waist. I'm already close to breathless from kissing, but the feel of him against me is almost enough to send me over the edge. He walks slowly up the stairs, relishing in the movement of our bodies against one another. Even though the house is empty, save for us, Dean kicks the door closed with the heel of his bare foot.

 

He lowers me to the floor, my bare feet hover over the hardwood as he slowly and deliberately slides my body against his. Our lips disconnect only as we remove each other's t-shirts. His lips find mine with fervor as his hands busy themselves with removing my jeans. My hands mirror his and the heavy material hits the ground with a smack.

 

Turning us so that he has his back to the bed, with my hands against his chest, I shove him back, surprise taking control of his face. Without giving him time to register what I'm doing, I hook my fingertips into the top of his boxers and pull them down his muscular legs, tossing them over my shoulder with an evil grin.

 

He props himself up on his elbows as I reach behind my back to unclasp my dark purple lace bra, the straps sliding slowly down my upper arms as I move even closer. I smirk even more when I catch a glimpse of his hands, balling into fists and relaxing, again and again. Without removing the thin material, I climb onto his lap and rest my knees on either side of his hips. Feeling him hot and hard against me sends a wave of goosebumps flaring over my exposed skin. His head drops back, eyes fluttering closed and mouth falling open in an O as his body reacts to just the weight of me against him.

 

There's a growl climbing up his chest as I lean down to kiss his newly exposed neck. My bra falls to the floor and the heat of his chest is now against mine. My tongue dances over his slightly salty skin before my teeth graze against it, pulling noises out of him you would expect to hear out of an aroused man. It's not too much longer until he can't take anymore. He sits up, reclaiming my mouth, one hand in my hair while the other is roaming over my back; squeezing soft flesh as it heads south.

 

I can't stop my body from reacting to his every touch. I press my chest against his even more as my hips buck. There's a chuckle from deep within him as he flips me onto my back. Thick, calloused fingers work their way down my sides and squeeze my hips gently before I hear a rip of fabric, my panties are now a shredded mess on the floor. There's a predatory look on his face, as if he could swallow me whole that makes my stomach do somersaults. One moment his emerald eyes are boring into mine and the next, he's driving into me. His hips settle against mine as my body acclimates to his sudden intrusion and his head falls forward as a low moan escapes.

 

I slide my hands down his sides and press my fingers into his lower back and at the same time, my legs work their way around his hips pulling him closer and deeper. His eyes shoot open and meet mine for a heartbeat. Lifting my head off the bed, I capture his lips in mine, my moan vibrates against his tongue. He can't contain himself and starts a deep and fast pace. It's not long before the pressure starts to build and I'm diving off the cliff. He follows with a growl, shuddering as he cums.

 

I curl up with my cheek against his chest while my hand draws slow, lazy circles on his stomach. His arm is pressed against my back while his hand keeps busy in my hair. I smile, satisfied, and feel my gaze drift up; surprised when I find he's already looking down at me.

 

"I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

 

My brow furrows. "Used to what?"

 

He pulls me even closer to him with his arm. "This. You and me. I don't feel I deserve it."

 

I slide my leg over his, using him for support as I push myself up onto my elbow. "Why do you say that?"

 

"The life we live and all the things we've done, not knowing if the next job will be the one that kills me or Sam, not knowing if something is going to take you away from me again-"

 

I press my lips firmly against him, silencing the words. "The price we pay for the job we have."

 

"I wish we didn't have it."

 

"After all the good you guys have done?"

 

He laughs, almost mockingly. "Good? We've died multiple times, Bobby couldn't walk for almost a year. Our parents are dead and we got dicked around by Angels… how is any of that good?"

 

"What about all the lives you've saved? Do those not count for anything?"

 

He runs a hand over his face as he groans. "I didn't say that… I'm just tired, that's all."

 

"So take a break or retire. We could go on vacation. I've always wanted to travel."

 

"What about your job? Who'd watch the horses and the house?"

 

"Well, there's always Bobby. He lives less than 12 hours away. Plus, there's Sam and Sarah. They've been getting quite cozy since she came up last week."

 

Dean’s face softens at the mention of his brother and Sarah.

 

Sarah had come up a few days after we burned the herb and rid my house of Crowley. I would've loved to have cooked her dinner or something, but I wasn't allowed off the couch or out of bed, Ian's orders… and Dean's. 

 

She was even prettier than Sam described. Long and layered black hair was pulled back into a braided bun and large brown eyes reminded me of a deer caught in the headlights. It didn't take long before she started to relax and the stories flowed, from everyone. The beer helped.

 

"Speaking of those two, they should be back from the movie soon."

 

A playful smile tugs at Dean’s lips. "You're itching to get in the kitchen aren't you?"

 

I lean closer to his face, my hair falling around us like a fiery waterfall. "You know me so well." Our lips connect in a chaste kiss before I all but jump out of the bed. He groans in protest at first, but I can feel him watch me as I slowly get dressed.

 

With a wink over my just clothed shoulder, I open the door and take the steps two at a time. My feet slide on the smooth kitchen floor. I survey the contents of my fridge to see how Bobby did on the shopping last night. It's sad how downright giddy I am now that I can cook again.

 

It's been 2 long weeks of take out, boxed, canned, and microwave meals. I wanted something real! Asparagus and cheese stuffed chicken breasts with mashed cauliflower, and zucchini fries on the side. A little healthy for Dean's liking, but I don't plan on telling him that he's not eating potatoes.

 

Dean enters the kitchen just as Sam opens the front door for Sarah, a cold wind accompanies them into the house.

 

Bobby isn't too far behind them, armed with firewood. He busies himself with getting a roaring fire going. I'm thinking s'mores for dessert.

 

Sarah helps with setting the table and we make small talk about the romantic comedy they had just seen, Sam let her pick.

 

There's a stampede of large feet when I give a shrill whistle signaling the arrival of the food onto the table. A longneck accompanies each plate. There’s a smile on every face as food is eaten and more stories are shared. Sarah doesn't flinch when the spilling of blood and guts is mentioned, she'll fit right in.

 

I lean back with my stomach full and take a long look around the room.

 

Dean is to my left and there's a light in his eyes that I can tell has been missing over the last few years. Bobby is seated next to him, telling a story of how he took down a Rugaru in Montana with Rufus by his side. Sam is across from Dean, leaving Sarah across from me. Their chairs have slowly moved closer together through the meal and at time point, Sam stretched his long arm over the back of her chair; his long fingers rub absentmindedly against her shoulder.

 

There’s hesitation in her eyes, understandably so. It's only been a year since she became a widow and there is still a small gold band on her left ring finger. I give her a small nod toward Sam before I tip my longneck at her.

 

There's a quiet clink of glass as her drink connects with mine, she nods in return, thankful for the quiet acknowledgement.

 

* * *

 

Mithra paces along the still damaged iron perimeter. The snow falls lazily from the dark sky and starts to gather in her thick black fur. Her ears twitch on her head at each sound the forest provides. She won't let anything cross, not while there's still blood pumping through her veins. Snow crunches under her large paws and it's not long until there's a quarter mile long path, just for her.

 

Laughter and voices drift down from the house and memories of the kindness flit through the beast’s mind. She will watch over this house and protect all the inhabitants from Crowley and every one of his minions until she no longer draws breath. Even then, there a few lesser known descendants that can be called upon should her time come to an end.

 

This place is defended.


End file.
